Hate
by MikeyX58
Summary: A mission in Luxembourg interrupts the lives of Kim Possible, who has new-found feelings for her friend, and Ron Stoppable, who is facing problems of which Kim is clueless about, leading to a confrontation the likes of which Kim never thought she would fight: True Hatred.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**This is my first fan-fiction. It is rated M for offensive material in later chapters along with some semi-raunchy language. This is not strictly a romance story between Ron and Kim, though it is going to be a big topic in the story. This first chapter is a bit longer then the rest will be, but it sets up the story well enough. Please, if possible, to ensure good sportsmanship, review this chapter. The second chapter should be published no later than two weeks after I first publish this story.**

**As far as time lines go, this story takes place before So the Drama, obviously, and I image it starting around October, possibly November of Kim's Junior Year. I hope those who read it enjoy, and any comments, whether constructive criticism or kind words, would be appreciated. Without further delay, I now begin my first fan fiction story. Enjoy.**

* * *

She was running down a darkened corridor of stone, both as swiftly and silently as a cat. Her red hair whipped behind her as she raced to her destination, which, at that precise moment, escaped her. So she kept running.

Eventually the girl ceased when she came upon a door with a sliver of light fleeing from the crack in the bottom. This was the room, she was sure of it. She had no idea why this room was so important but in her heart she did know it was crucial to her mission. She opened the door quickly, clenching her fists, expecting the worse.

For no reason, as it turned out. The room was completely empty.

* * *

Kim's eyes shot open, her mind already allowing the dream to slip through its grasp. Her room was coming into a clearer focus as she blinked her eyes rapidly a few times. She glanced over at her clock, which read 7:35 am, and smirked to herself, wondering if it was too early for Ron to be up.

Sitting up, Kim was rubbing her head, trying to shake off the drowsiness that was oft accompanied with process of waking. Thinking ahead of today's schedule, which, as far as she knew, consisted purely of being around Ron all day (not that she minded or had anything more important in mind), she stretched her arms and yawned, feeling almost fully awake.

Jumping up off her bed, she walked toward her closet in search of a new outfit for a new day. Kim chose a typical, albeit stylish, dark blue top coupled with jeans of a light purple variety, Club Banana stock of course. Hugging them in her arms, she set off for the bathroom to shower, wondering what the day would hold.

* * *

She rushed downstairs adorning her choice clothes of the day, barely acknowledging her parents who were sitting and talking at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Kimmie-cub," her father greeted, looking up while sipping his steaming coffee.

_Ugh, _thought Kim upon hearing that relic of a nickname. "Hey Dad, Mom. Sorry, gotta run, I'm going on to meet Ron today. Don't worry about breakfast, we'll pick something out."

She rushed out the door, not hearing her mother yell her name in hopes of gaining her attention. Her parents looked at each other, sighing, knowing she'd be back soon.

* * *

_I probably didn't bring enough for a real breakfast at some restaurant, and though Ron's a gentleman, I don't want him paying for my stuff. He's been acting all weird lately, so I don't want to put more stress on him._ Shaking off that thought, her mind returned to addressing the breakfast issue._ Hope Ron's parent's still have some breakfast left. That is if Ron didn't eat it all._

She started giggling euphorically, not sure why such a normal occasion as seeing Ron excited her so. _Maybe it's because of what Monique said, _her mind put forward. _Last week when we were talking about guys and dating and she asked if Ron had ever tried putting a move on me. _That question surprised Kim, not understanding where she was coming from.

"_Girl, you know you're the most popular and most desirable girl in school. When is Mr. Clueless going to realize his best friend is a hottie," _Monique's inquiry echoed.

Kim sighed, and started walking faster. Though she thought Monique had a small point (though she's too modest to ever admit it) it disturbed her that getting together with Ron dating-wise was expected of her eventually from Monique, and while Ron was perfect as a friend, even if Kim wanted to date him (_So not_, thought Kim defiantly), he probably would be freaked out, say no, and never talk to her again. Even worse, he might say yes even if he didn't feel the same for her just because she wanted him to (being the dominate one in a friendship sometimes had that affect). _Heck, maybe he does feel the same way, but after a few dates it doesn't work out, and we break up, effectively breaking up our friendship as well._

_It's so damn complicated_, she muttered in her mind, and looked around, starting to take more notice of her surroundings. Ron's house was almost right in front of her. Smiling and wondering if it felt like a quick journey because she was walking fast or had a lot on her mind, she closed the distance between herself and the front door. Although Ron would most certainly be up by this time (if not awaken by Rufus or his parents, surely the grumbling of his stomach would do the job) the house appeared empty, causing Kim's smile to slowly fade.

_What? Like where would he be this early with his parents? Doctor's office? Surely not. _She glanced around suspiciously, wishing for some sign or indication of where they went.

Peering in through a window to the side of the door, while attempting to not look too shifty should any of his neighbors see her, Kim spotted a perfectly clean living room. Her smile returned when she saw pictures of Ron's childhood on the opposing wall in neat order. The first one that caught her eyes was one of both Ron and Kim when they were eight, hugging each other tightly with big grins on their faces (for some reason, which, annoying as it felt, Kim forgot). The sunlight bounced off Kim's face, making her burn with a blush (or perhaps just burn; being a redhead sucks sometimes) while Ron's boyish grin was making the much older Kim giddy.

Next to that gem was a photo of Ron and Rufus, perhaps their first anniversary of being owner and pet, because Ron was holding a taco with a candle in the formation of a "1" placed between the contents. _Rufus sure did look younger back then_, Kim noted, finding is strange how even a fur-less creature could age so noticeably. Directly beneath that one was an occasion that Kim remembered well enough but didn't understand: Ron's Bar Mitzvah. Not being remotely Jewish, of course she wouldn't expect herself be able to comprehend…

_Duh_. Kim slapped her forehead lightly, greatly annoyed at herself. _Ron and his family must be at Temple right now._ Feeling foolish, she turned away from the house and felt a twinge of sadness rise from her stomach. _I could, I guess, wait her for them to get back but I don't know when they left or how long this usually takes, plus it'd seem sorta stalkish of me to hang around his house waiting. Stupid synagogue, his family's not even Orthodox, why bother going?_

Kim audibly groaned, frustrated, and began walking back home. _He goes every Saturday morning, why did I forget now? __My parents could have at least reminded me, _Kim ranted in her mind,_ they're geniuses, you'd think they'd be able to remember. _Another voice, a more logical one, spoke up in her head, simply stating the truth of the situation: _You forgot too_.

The walk back was a quick-paced one, with nothing distracting her from her confusing thoughts on Monique's words about Ron and rather or not she considered him something more than a good (_No, the best_) friend. Blinking her eyes for a second, Kim saw Ron's face flood her "vision," light-hearted and joy-filled. She stopped walking and looked around the houses around her. Some people were out on their porches, while some others were getting into their automobiles. An elderly couple could be seen tending to their small, modest garden in their front yard. The sun was rising, but still low enough to give the whole scene an atmospheric and almost unbelievable tone.

_It truly is a beautiful morning, _thought Kim, seeping in its charm for a few seconds more before starting home again.

* * *

Opening the door to her house quietly in hopes of no one noticing her to comment on her stupid mistake, Kim stepped in and instantly heard her father's voice.

"You know, Kimmie, your mother tried to remind you that Ron wouldn't be home right now but you were gone before she could yell more than your name." Her father was still sitting at the table, a newspaper lying in front of him; his body turned her way and hands in his lap.

"Yeah, sorry Dad, no big, right?" Kim asked, her voice growing slightly feeble as a small frown formed on her father's face.

"Kim…," Mr. Possible replied, his voice sounding much sterner, "it's not so much the running out part that bothered us; it's the part where you gave us none of your time. Heck," he continued, his voice a little more jovial but his eyes still glaring, "Ron is spending all his morning with his family, and you can't spend five seconds with us? I know you might think that it's not that big of a deal, Kimmie, but it is for your mother and I."

Kim nodded and looked down to her feet, agreeing with everything that her father had scolded her about. Worse, by the sounds of it, her mother was called in on some emergency and she couldn't apologize to her now unless she wanted everyone listened over the intercom. She sighed lightly and moved her eyes up toward her fathers'.

"I am sorry, Dad," Kim confessed, "I don't know really why I rushed off so quickly. I just really wanted to see Ron. I – it won't happen again, I promise." And that was the end of it, because Mr. Possible could tell the honesty of her words.

"Well, Kimmie-cub, it's great you have a friend you're so devoted to, but it's important to not forget the other people who love you," (Kim blushed at the usage of the word "love" but it went unnoticed). "Am I to assume that later you're going back out once he returns home?" He questioned, his eyes not wavering from hers.

"Yep, I plan on it, if it's okay. I just don't…" Kim hesitated, not sure if she really wanted to voice her annoyance at Ron not being home, or at least the reason of him not being home, "um, see why he can't sleep in 'til 10:00 am like he does every other day." She sincerely hoped that her father didn't notice the changed in direction of the statement.

Showing no signs that he did, he chuckled, replying "It's amazing what a strong belief in something can motivate someone to do, even a normally unmotivated boy such as Ronald. Anyhow," continued Mr. Possible, as he shifted his body away from his daughter and grabbed the newspaper in front of him, "when you go upstairs, check on Jim and Tim, will you? I only saw them for a split second before they went back to their room, muttering something about a secret project. Your mother would be annoyed, to put it lightly, if they blew up another part of the house." He looked down and presumably started reading.

Kim moved toward the door to the stairs. "Sure thing, Dad. See you later."

"Uh-huh," he nodded, his eyes staying on the paper which now held the majority of his attention.

_For their sakes I hope the Tweebs aren't up to anything. Mom was really steamed at them after their last rockets caused almost $700 of damage._

After peaking in on them and seeing them tinkering with a radio, which, for any other boys of their age would seem harmless and innocent, she decided it was nothing to get her father to look into, at least not at the current stage. If she heard the words "rocket fuel" though…

Reaching her room, she flung herself carelessly on her bed, turned over on her back and starting staring at her mauve ceiling, wishing she could see through it and observe the sky. _I am so bored. _Pulling out her Kimmunicator out of her pocket, she was about to check Club Banana's website (thanks to Wade updating the device to connect to the internet anytime, anywhere) when the phone on her nightstand rang. Moving her hand to the receiver, she picked it up and said "Hello?"

"Hey there, girl," the familiar voice of Monique said, "what you up to?"

"Well, actually," Kim started, before being cut off by her friend on the other end.

"So not concerned right now. You heard the news?" she asked excitably.

"Uh, no, what news is that?" asked the red-head.

"New Club Banana stock, girl!" Monique shrieked. "Like, those cute little pink dresses you were drooling over Thursday? They're coming in two new colors, periwinkle _and _sky blue!"

"Get out!" Kim shouted, now feeling the enthusiasm felt by her best female friend. "How much?"

"Who cares? I know your mind and body both want them, girl. Bonnie would flip if she saw you in them. They're coming in Tuesday, so have your purse ready."

Though a little put off Monique didn't tell her the price (which was far from a good sign, she knew), Kim moved on. "Thanks for the tip, Monique, I mean it. So, how's your morning been?"

"Not bad on my front but ya know; Saturday mornings and all. I'll probably go out later, but who knows?" Laughing, almost as an afterthought, she asked "You?"

"Eh, bored here, but so not the drama. I actually forgot Ron wasn't going to be home this morning and I ran off to his house. Facepalm moment for sure," Kim commented, trying to make light of what she still thought was a stupid mistake.

"Why wouldn't Ron be at home in the morning?" Monique curiously inquired.

"He went to church with his parents. Well," Kim corrected herself, "Temple but you know, same diff, right?"

"I hear you, girl. Never knew the Ron Man stuck by his religion so much. I thought his God was the Naco."

Laughing, Kim replied "Yeah, well, at least that'd make more sense as he virtually lives at Bueno Nacho."

"Say what? I thought he _did _live there. You saying he doesn't pay rent," she replied in a faux-incredulous tone of voice.

"Pretty sure, Monique. You'd think I'd notice the smell of cheese every time I'm with him." Kim paused for a second, and then decided to voice her concerns. "I wanted to see him 'cause you know, he's been sort of acting strange the last few days. I actually thought he might try to get out of Temple to stay home and relax but he didn't."

"Girl, just admit it, he's always off. It's in his genes. Anyway by the sounds of it, he's just one crazy Jew who loves Temple," she stated, hastily adding "uh, no offense of course."

"Nah, it's cool, Monique. I guess he has to have some life of his own that has less calories than Bueno Nacho," Kim replied, still slightly annoyed but deciding to let it go for now.

"Yeah, truth." Monique paused, and Kim heard another voice on the other side of the line, and her friend said "Oh, hey, gotta go but I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Sure thing, thanks a bunch for the tip." She heard Monique say something sounding a lot like "No problem" then hanging up.

Kim placed the phone down, smiling, and making a mental note to be sure not to forget the new dresses coming in. Talking with Monique always cheered her up, even when they only chatted about trivial, non-crucial things (not that Club Banana clothing was ever non-crucial, of course). She sighed again, and looked to her clock, already feeling the boredom stating to creep up on her again.

_As stupid as I feel thinking this, _Kim admitted to herself, _get home soon, Ron._

Hoping somehow he heard her thoughts, Kim closed her eyes, and laid back, allowing a restless slumber to fall upon her.

* * *

"Ronald, what took so long? Your father and I have been waiting at least 20 minutes," the stern but care-filled voice of Ron's mother demanded.

"Um, nothing, Mom. I just had a few questions for Rabbi Katz, that's all," Ron murmured, his eyes averting theirs while closing the car door.

Cleaning off her glasses, his mother replied "Next time try and give a warning to us we'll have to wait, please," which was slightly drowned out by the sound of the automobile turning on.

"Anything we could help you with, Ronald?" inquired the calm voice of his father, looking into the mirror at his son who he could swear is brooding. "Numbers may be my specialty, but I have no problems with other topics, son."

Rubbing his neck, Ron just said, "Gee, Dad, thanks for the offer, but its fine. Rabbi Katz sorted it out. I just wanna get home before Rufus dies of starvation." Though Rufus was hungry, as he always was, Ron's hyperbole went unnoticed for what it truly was: a plea to return to the comforts of his room.

"Ronald, please, no whining or melodramatics. If you want, we can pick up some Bueno Nacho to go, or stay, even. Our schedule's pretty open today, right honey," she asked, looking over at her husband, who was skimming through a book.

"Mmmm, sure is," was the total sum of Mr. Stoppable's reply.

Ron gave a nervous titter before answering, careful not to sound too unexcited. "That'd be great, Mom, ya' know, if you two are fine with it."

"Then it's a date," said his father, placing the book back into the glove compartment.

Though Ron was perfectly happy to be having Bueno Nacho for what would constitute lunch (and Rufus above thrilled, chattering hungrily at his side) he still felt drained, as he's been feeling for around a week or so. Usually able to put emotional strains behind him (or at least hide it from others), it's been harder recently to try and conceal his depressed state. Instead of thinking about what to order when they get to Bueno Nacho or what television programs he might want to watch that night, his mind was blank as he stared out of the window at the passing landscapes. His thoughts wandered through the barren plains of his mind while his parents chatted about their professions until they arrived at their destination.

* * *

Ron walked slowing into his room, followed by a satisfied yet still-craving Rufus. He dropped on his bed, face first, and pulled a pillow over his head, which for some odd reason was a comfortable position for him. _I'm such a mess right now_, he thought, glancing over at his pet curling up into a ball and laying on his desk. _I should probably call KP, she's probably expecting it. And_, he mentally added, _she can help get my mind off my prob._ With this positive notion in mind, he phoned her.

* * *

Kim awoke from her doze upon hearing the ring of her phone. Stifling a yawn and already regaining focus, she picked up the receiver saying "Hello?"

"Hey there, KP." _Ron_. Kim automatically smiled, always happy to hear his voice even when he's been acting strange and distant.

"How are you?" she asked in a cheery tone, not at all reflecting her inner feelings at the time.

"Ah, ya know, not bad. Can I come over? I, like, didn't want to bother anyone there or anything. It cool?" he asked, in what Kim considered a worried and nervous tone.

The question alone took her for surprise. Ron was never ungentlemanly (aside from some of his hideous eating habits) but asking permission to come over was taking it to new heights. He usually just showed up and hoped for the best (which was the case most of the time). Needless to say, Kim's thoughts became even more perturbed.

"Of course," Kim replied, still in a smiling voice despite her concerns, "no need to even ask. Be here soon." She hung up the phone before Ron even had the chance to reply. She instantly regretted cutting the conversation short.

_Kim, how could you do that? _She scolded herself. _Well, maybe on the bright side when he comes over he'll be willing to tell me what's bothering him. Usually his sitches don't last for too long and this one's only been going on for, like, a week, but it seems serious and I don't even have a clue as to what's going on. _She sighed. _Well, Ron, if you want to talk about it or need any help, I'll be here, I promise._

* * *

As soon as Ron knocked once on the door, it immediately opened revealing Kim on the other side, looking as cheerful as ever though her clothing appeared slightly crumpled.

"KP, what up?" jovially asked Ron, thinking _Wow, I guess I woke her up with my call._ He walked through the door frame into her house.

She laughed, though she knew her friend was obviously feigning his happiness. "Not a thing, happy I could finally see you today."

With a look of puzzlement, Ron asked "Huh?"

"Well, you see, I thought that – "

"Is that Ronald I hear," called Mr. Possible's voice from the dining room.

"Sure is, Mr. Possible," he confirmed, moving toward the greeting.

"How have you been doing," Kim's father politely asked, placing his book, which Kim read out as being _Subatomic Microparticles for Beginners Volume XIV_, on his lap as he looked at Ron.

"Uh, oh, you know, average I guess." Kim noted he subtly fidgeted his fingers but her father noticed nothing as his eyes didn't move off Ron's.

"Well, Kimmie can turn an average day into a great in a jiffy. It's a Possible family trait," he said, not seeing Kim cringe at the corniness of his words.

"Uh-huh, sure, I knew KP had powers of some sort," Ron replied, in a drawn out tone making Kim want to punch him, no matter what was going on.

Bored with the small talk, Kim tried to signal her father to let Ron free, which he must have received because his next words were "Well, you and Kim run along. You might find it beneficial to do more homework tonight. It'd save you time tomorrow."

"Thanks, Dad," said Kim, pulling Ron's arm away. Walking towards the stairs, Ron asked "Do we have any h-work to finish?"

"Nah, so not. We got it all done yesterday. An once-in-a-lifetime miracle," she joked. Silence, aside from the rapid Tweeb-Speak from their room they were passing, followed.

Going into Kim's room and searching for something to say, Kim asked where Rufus was (as his little head wasn't popping out of Ron's pocket).

"Ah, he fell asleep pretty soon after we got home and he was pretty worn out 'cuz the little guy managed to stay awake during all of Temple," he replied, taking a seat on Kim's bed.

"Oh, okay." _Enough with the small talk, ask him. If he won't come out and say it, I'll just have to push the convo. _Sitting down next to him, seeing him downcast, Kim knew she had to speak up.

"Ron, what's going on? Drop the act. You can lie to my dad, but don't lie to me and say you're fine," Kim spoke, totally serious in tone hoping Ron would answer honestly.

"It's," Ron hesitated, still not looking up, "sorta complicated."

"Ron," Kim said, taking his left hand in her hands, causing him to shift his gaze towards her, "just tell me about it and I can help."

He sighed and delayed a few seconds before answering. "KP, it's about –"

The ringing of the Kimmunicator sounded, causing Kim to drop his hand and groan. Picking up the mini-computer, she bitterly spat "What's the sitch?"

"Hello to you, too," said Wade, looking slightly put off at Kim's less than gracious greeting.

"Wade, it's _so _not the moment. What up?" Kim strained to keep the aggravation out of her voice. She was annoyed at the interruption, but since Wade didn't really do anything wrong intentionally, she let it go.

"Got an interesting hit on the site, thought it'd be something to look into," stated Wade professionally, typing away at his computer.

"Sounds great, where we going?"

"Oh, uh, nowhere right now. This is sort of a unique mission," said Wade, looking up from his monitor. "You don't start this mission until Monday night."

Kim looked over at Ron, and saw he shared the same look of intrigue on his face, shrugging his shoulders. "Okay, what is this mission?"

"Okay, there's going to be an assassination attempt on Johann Trotzer, a 90-year-old former CEO of a baked goods company. He travels to Germany a lot and is a citizen of and currently lives in Luxembourg. He contacted the site in hopes that you would be able to protect him."

"Why's he being targeted?" Kim asked, already taking mental notes.

"Not sure, really. The threatening note he received was a bit vague, and he may be holding something back but I did a background check and he appears clean."

"Huh," Kim wondered aloud. "That is sorta . . . odd."

"Yeah, and it comes with a major downside," replied the boy, looking slightly worried.

"Cut to the chase, what?"

"Technically speaking, we don't know the exact day this attempt will occur, probably either Wednesday or Thursday. The point is he needs you there by Tuesday morning so you should leave Monday night, which means you're looking at possibly missing the rest of the week of school and maybe even facing a shortened weekend."

"WADE," Kim shouted, not believing he thought this would fly, "what makes you think this is even a possibility? I mean, four to five days?"

"Well, KP," Ron spoke up, "anything's possible for a Possible."

Fuming, Kim turned her head and looked at him. "Sure, Ron, and I'm sure your parents will be completely fine with this."

"Eh, I don't see why they would have a problem with it," Ron said, looking sincere in his statement.

Kim was about to angrily retort, but before she could, Wade cut in.

"Not sure if this helps," he said, drawing Kim's attention away from Ron (which he was grateful for), "but Trotzer really only wants you, Kim. He knows you usually work with a sidekick," he explained, nodding at Ron, "but he says he doesn't need him. If Ron doesn't want to go, he doesn't have to."

_No way_, Kim thought. _Not only would he suffer majorly as far as academics go, except maybe for Home Ec., but there's no way I'm going all the way to Europe alone just to guard over some guy._

Ron saw something going on behind Kim's eyes and hoped whatever she was thinking, it was in his favor. "Uh, KP, if you want to, you know, take this mission solo, I'd be cool with it."

Not registering Ron's comment, she replied "No, Wade, that is _so _not happening. Ron goes where I go. Tell him if he's not okay with that he can forget my help," hoping she didn't sound too bossy while also hoping she got her point across.

"No problem, Kim, chill. It was just a suggestion he offered. You know, if Ron stayed, he could get your homework and notes that you'd miss. There _are_ cons to being inseparable."

"We're not inseparable!" both Ron and Kim stated in unison. Quickly, Kim stated "Jinx, you owe me a soda," lightly punching him in the arm.

"So not fair, KP. You have to give me time to retort," Ron whined.

"Ron, the whole point of –"

"Guys, focus," Wade intervened, looking directly at Kim. "Look, normally I wouldn't be putting you guys in the position to miss this much schoolwork. There's an added benefit, though, and it's that this guy's loaded, and though he knows you don't work for profit, he insists on donating a rather impressive amount of money to virtually any charity of choice you want. I seriously recommend you find some way to get your parents to okay this mission."

"Don't you think this sounds sort of shady? Like it could be a trap or something," Kim inquired, hoping for any small delay in having to tell her parents she'd be neglecting her duties as a student for a week.

"At first, yeah, of course," the twelve-year old replied, looking at her as though she was crazy, "but believe me, I did a lot of digging, and I mean _a lot_, and it checks out. Yes, it's odd, but maybe the old guy's just generous. Look, I have to go, but I can give you more information on Monday when I get your ride set up, if you decide to go."

_My dad would so not approve_, thought Kim. _Maybe if I could get this guy to send some funding for the Middleton Space Center…_

Sighing, Kim nodded her head. "Sure, Wade, set it up."

"Kay, and you, Ron? You still plan on going?" asked Wade.

Nervously, Kim ran her right hand through her hair, not truly believing Ron would ever deny going on a mission with her, but still gave a small sigh of relief when he said yes. They said their goodbyes, leaving Ron and Kim alone again in peace.

"Um, well, that was interesting," Ron stated, breaking the silence. "You still worried it might be a trap, KP?"

"Not sure, you know how extensive Wade's checks are. I guess you never know until you get there." Her mind wondered about the soon-to-be mission and if it was going to be any more difficult than her usual sitches. She was brought back to Earth with Ron's words.

"Hey, I know I sorta just got here, but I should go home and tell my parents about the mission," Ron said, already getting up and moving toward the door.

"Ron, it's Saturday; you have all of tomorrow to get their approval. Just stay here," Kim begged.

"Nah, I really should go now. It might take some time to get them to go along with the mission."

"Wait, Ron, don't think for a second I forgot what we were talking about before Wade called in."

"We can talk about it later, KP. I promise. It's not that big of a deal," said Ron with little conviction in his voice, as he was walking down the steps.

Defeated, Kim gave in. "Okay, fine, but be sure not to forget, because I won't. Ron," he turned his head back to look at her, "have a great rest of the day. I wish you luck with your parents. I'll call you later tonight, and if I don't, tomorrow."

A smile broke out on Ron's face, infectious in every sense of the word as it made Kim grin also.

"Kay, hear you then."

"Oh, and say hi to Rufus for me," she shouted down the steps, hearing a low "sure" in return. Smiling, she lay down on her bed, her legs hanging off the side. _Though I didn't solve or even find a thing out about Ron's ish, maybe a week in Luxembourg will help._ Closing her eyes, she felt at peace.

* * *

Eating breakfast Monday morning, Kim was stressed. She managed to finally get her parents approval late last night after a whole day of visiting one of her Aunts uptown. It would cost her dearly, though, in the form of Tweeb-sitting for what equaled three weeks. Though they didn't meet up yesterday, she knew Ron also got an okay from his parents, but she was hardly shocked: Kim couldn't think of parents more care-free than Ron's.

_Speaking of Ron, where is he? _Kim thought to herself while chewing on some scrambled eggs. _He said he'd be here early to walk with me to school, but he hasn't shown. What gives?_

At that instance, someone knocked on the door. _Just in time_, Kim smirked to herself, snatching up her books and moving toward the sound. Naturally, upon opening the door, Ron stood in his trademark red jersey and baggy pants, Rufus poking his head out of the pocket.

"Good morning, KP, you ready to go?" Ron asked, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

"Sure thing," Kim said, turning her head and shouting "Good bye, Dad."

Hearing a small blast from what she presumed was the Tweebs' room, she turned back around not expecting a reply, but smiled when she heard "Okay Kimmie-cub, you too. See you after school, if the house's still standing."

"Let's go before the Tweebs come our way, kay?" she said, moving past Ron in the door frame.

Complying, Ron followed, moving his right hand to shut the door and then block his eyes from the bright rising sun.

"So, why were you late?" Kim inquired out of interest, looking his way.

"So not late, KP, just not here when I said I'd be," he corrected her, looking back.

"Um, that's like the definition of late, you know? Anyway, spill, why?"

"I wasn't feeling too badical this morning. I almost thought about staying home but decided it'd be better to come today," he confessed.

"Are you feeling alright now," Kim asked, looking at his face with concern.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, shrugging, "just a small headache."

"Oh," replied Kim, "I'm proud you're taking the initiative to get your homework yourself and not leave it up to me, even though you're not feeling your best."

"Well, yeah, the homework thing is a plus, but I was coming more for you," Ron nonchalantly said.

Blushing slightly, Kim shyly turned her head away feeling her heart rate increase. "What do you mean," she asked, the words flowing quickly.

"Oh, you know, when you give Bonnie control of the squad I think you'd need someone to restrain you from mauling her," Ron half-joked with a toothy smile.

Kim groaned at being reminded of the fact that she indeed decided to give Bonnie leadership for the short time they were gone. Though she's not the second best in the squad athletically (which is a sentiment Kim intended on making _very _clear), she was the most demanding and bossy after Kim (not that Kim considered herself bossy), and just might make an okay squad captain. That thought was nowhere near enough to protect Wade if they ever met in person, of course, since it was his fault Kim would be gone.

"Thanks so much for reminding me," Kim sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes. "Just the thing I needed to make my morning bright and sunny."

"No prob, you know the Ron Man is here to serve." Kim noted that he didn't seem to catch on that she was annoyed, but let it go, still concerned about whatever was going with him. _I am so not closer to the bottom of this_. _I'm sure he'll tell me, but I don't want to bring it up again or he might feel awkward._

"Well," Kim started, her voice not betraying emotion, "I guess it's the thought that counts."

"Yeah, you know, you'd think so but that excuse never works when I forget to do any chores," he stated in a genuinely confused tone that caused Kim to giggle slightly.

"Oh yeah, you do chores," Kim asked with a grin on her face, trying to imagine someone as disorderly as Ron being responsible for cleaning something.

Puffing out his chest, Ron replied "It's in my DNA to want to pitch in. What do you think I did all of yesterday?"

"Chores? Really? Why?" Kim didn't see him at all yesterday as she was out of the area herself but when Kim called him late last night, he never actually mentioned what he did all day.

"Since I'm going to be away for a little, I just had to sorta clean the house," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "seemed fair and it wasn't too bad with Rufus' help." Hearing his name, Rufus crawled out of Ron's pocket and gave him a thumbs up. "I know, lil' Pal, you da man!"

_Huh_, Kim thought, _he might be more responsible than I ever gave him credit for._

The rest of the short walk was uneventful aside from a squirrel chasing Rufus (which, while horrifying Ron and his pet, deeply amused Kim). Five minutes later they were walking through the doors of Middleton High.

"So, are we supposed to talk to Mr. B now or after our first class," asked Ron, moving his left hand in his pocket.

"POSSIBLE, STOPPABLE, HOMEROOM, NOW," came the rumbling voice of Mr. Barkin.

Flinching, Kim replied, "Now, I think." They walked quickly to their homeroom, empty except for their teacher who was glaring at them.

"What up, Mr. B," Ron asked, not hearing Kim groan beside him (or Rufus groan from his pocket, for that matter).

"The sky, Stoppable, which you would obviously know if you paid attention in your science class. Now, I got a call from your mom, Possible, and –"

"You did, why," Kim inquired, instantly regretting it.

"If you'd stop yapping I'd tell you." Kim blushed, turned her gaze downwards and folded her arms behind her back. "She told me, rushed as she was sewing a man's spinal cord back in," (Ron blanched) "that you have some important mission you have to do that will cause you to miss four, five days of school. Correct?"

"Well, Mr. B, only three if we're lucky," stated Ron, sincerely looking as if that sentiment would help improve the situation. It didn't.

"I hate to disappoint you, Stoppable, but you're not lucky. Over the course of the next week, in your total classes combined, you were to have seven tests and quizzes, none of which to be on Friday. Explain to me when you will take them," he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Kim had a feeling she knew the correct answer, but before she could say anything, Ron replied in a clueless tone "When we get back?" Kim cringed.

"TODAY – NOW – FIVE MINUTES! STUDY!" he shouted, clearly aggravated.

"Does that mean we can go to Luxembourg?"

"More importantly, Stoppable," Mr. Barkin started, his voice mellowing out, "do you know the chief export of Luxembourg?"

Hesitating, clearly not understanding the relevance, Ron replied, "Uh, no, why?"

"Because that's question 56 on the World Geography quiz you're taking in four and a half minutes." Giving a smile Kim could only describe as sinister, he turned to her. "I thought I'd start you off with something easy for you, Possible, as you go globe-trotting like it's going to the movies." He paused for a second before continuing. "To extend my personal and professional courtesy to your mother," he began, his voice sounding rather bored, "I decided to allow you permission for this so-called important mission. I'll give you your homework at the end of the day after the tests and they're to be turned in as soon as you get back, no excuses. Now go and study for the maybe three minutes you have left."

Pulling Ron away before he could put his foot in his mouth again, that's exactly what they did, starting one of the most hectic school days she's ever had that didn't involve a side-effect of some mission or being interrupted by some villain. After suffering through three grueling tests, they were allowed to each lunch, though only for ten minutes (Rufus surely would have stayed with Monique for more food if Ron hadn't grumpily shoved him back in his pocket). Finishing off the tests and getting four days of homework ("No problem, Stoppable, if you're lucky you'll get it done in three days") concluded their academic portion of her day. Hating Wade more than ever, she and Ron walked down the halls to her locker.

"KP, the mythology of Roman Gods and Ancient Greece were part of the same civilization, right?"

"Uh, Ron, Ancient Greece _is _a civilization," Kim said, secretly dreading the test scores he'd receive.

"Oh, right," Ron replied, than stopped moving forward, the words sinking in. "Ohhhh, see, that's why the question made no sense. Yeah, let's hope that part's not graded."

"The second essay?"

"Yeah."

"The second of only two?"

"Not sure where you're going with this, KP."

"Ugh," exclaimed Kim. "Ron, that was worth half the total amount of points."

"Yeah, so I'm hoping the other half is worth more."

Slamming her head lightly on her locker, moaning, Kim felt her patience waning. "Ron, you had better ace all of this h-work we got if you want to pass your classes."

Frowning, he gazed at her with a serious look in his eyes, not common for Ron, and Kim instantly felt bad about scolding him. "I know, KP, I just don't feel too great today. Let's face it; I probably failed most of the tests. It sucks." Closing his eyes, he leaned against the locker adjacent to Kim's. He let out a long-winded sigh.

"Hey, champ, come on," Kim said, in hopes of trying to cheer him up. "I know today sucked, you think I passed all of my tests," she asked, knowing almost certainly she did, though some just barely. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Forget today and think about tomorrow." Kim placed her hand on his shoulder. "It'll just be you and me in Luxembourg eating whatever baked goods this guy made."

At the mention of baked goods, Rufus jumped out of Ron's pocket and climbed to his shoulder and onto Kim's hand. "Mhmm! Yummy!"

"Well, you, me, and Rufus," Kim amended.

Ron opened his eyes and his face lit up, as optimistic as ever. His voice rose and he started to sound excited. "Yeah, KP, you're right. It'll be badical!" Virtually yelling the last word, people around them looked at them strangely.

"Yeah, cool, I know, now hush," Kim said gently, playfully moving her hand off his shoulder and placing it on his mouth. The gaze they shared, while short, made Kim's insides bubble. Rufus got bored with the momentary silence and dived back into Ron's pants, causing him to lose his focus and look away, dropping his eyes. Kim followed suit, quickly opening her locker, hoping she wasn't blushing too badly.

"Hey there, Kim. You okay, you look flustered," Wade asked from his monitor in her locker.

"Uh, yeah, no big. Got more details on the mission? I thought you might have talked to me a little yesterday but you never beeped me." Though her stomach still felt fluttery, she tried hard to force it out of her mind and focus on the upcoming mission.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just setting everything up and by the time I was done I didn't really think I should bother you. It was pretty late," Wade confessed. Re-reading something off the monitor in front of him, he told her the necessary information she needed. "Your ride is going to pick you up in your front lawn around 5:30 today. It's a bit of a flight time-wise, and Luxembourg's already six hours ahead of us, so you'll get there pretty late, but Trotzer promises to be up despite the time to welcome you. That good? It gives you time to pack if you didn't pack yesterday."

"Yeah, okay, thanks Wade, we'll be there." Kim grabbed a large portion of books from her locker and shut the door, telling Ron it'd be stupid to bring two sets of the same books, to which Ron nodded solemnly.

Looking over at Ron closely, Kim saw he looked, well, off again. _God, Ron, mood shift much? _Before she said something, Ron asked, "Hey Kim, I'll go put my books away in my locker while you go talk to Bonnie, okay?"

"What happened to restraining me from attacking her," Kim said in jest, hoping to make him grin again. He didn't.

"Oh, c'mon, you can deal with Bonnie just as well without me," he said, sounding slightly worried. "Besides, you know, Bonnie never liked me much, and –"

Kim's laugh cut him off. "Ron, Bonnie doesn't like anyone much, it's nothing new." She sighed, asking "Is she being even ruder to you than usual?"

"I can take it," Ron snorted indignantly, though strangely sounded satisfied; "I just don't feel like taking it today."

"Sure, fine, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'll be back in five."

She began walking toward the gym. _What was that? Even though Bonnie's always deriding him, I thought it went in one ear and out the other. Is that his ish? Bonnie?_ A small growl emitting from her throat, Kim stormed toward the locker room, opening it finding the girls getting ready for practice in various states of undress.

"Late much, K," asked Bonnie, mockingly.

"We need to talk, Bonnie," Kim said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

"Hey, let me put my top on first!" Bonnie shrieked, causing other girls to look at them.

"So not the drama, this is urgent," she said, looking bitterly at her rival.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Bonnie flipped her hair. "Kay, whatever, what?"

"I have a mission and I'll be gone 'til Friday probably. I'm giving you command of the squad," the red-head grumbled, hating every word.

Bonnie, though visibly shocked, composed herself quickly. "Sure thing, K, I'll show everyone how much better a leader I am," she said, smirking.

"Kay, so not," started Kim angrily but kept her voice low so the other girls couldn't hear, "I'm choosing you 'cause you're just rude and bossy enough to maybe make an okay leader on short notice. Hope's not assertive enough, Tara's game has been off recently, Crystal's too average to take point, need I go on?"

"Fine, whatever," Bonnie said, now looking bored with these proceedings.

"Shut it, I'm not done," Kim said, leaving Bonnie looking pissed off. "You'll do only the cheers we talked about. Don't add any of your so-called better moves to anything. If one thing is different when we get back, I don't care how popular you are, I'll throw you off the squad."

"Damn it, fine, I'll follow your stupid routines," Bonnie sneered. She paused a second, then her eyes lit up, as if she just thought of something. "You said 'we.' Is the loser going with you?" Hearing Bonnie refer to Ron in her negative, albeit normal, way and having just left a dispirited Ron, Kim almost slapped her.

"_Yes_, Bonnie, he's coming with me. Lay off him, okay?"

"Better idea: how about leaving the loser where ever you're going, 'cause no one here likes him anyway" Bonnie said, laughing.

BOOM!

Kim shoved Bonnie against the wall so hard the brunette groaned. "I mean it, leave Ron alone starting Friday. I am so done with your 'I'm better than everyone' attitude. Ron's a better person then you could ever dream of being. Now put your uniform on, you're holding up the squad, _Captain_."

Letting go of her arms, Kim walked away at a quick pace, not in the least interested in hearing Bonnie call her names. _That bitch, if she so much as looks at Ron the wrong way again, I'll kick her ass of the squad in a second._

Rushing past a confused group of cheerleaders, hoping to get back to Ron quickly, she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

"What!" Kim yelled, turning around, but instead of seeing Bonnie, she saw a blonde-haired girl, who recoiled in surprise. "Oh, sorry, Tara," Kim said. "Didn't know it was you. What is it?"

"That's fine. Where are you going," Tara asked meekly, gazing down with a look in her face Kim couldn't place.

"Ron and I have a mission that'll last a few days, and Bonnie's covering for me until we get back." Kim turned and made to walk toward the gym doors.

"Wait, Ron won't be at practice today," Tara spoke up, looking at Kim.

_I so do not have time for this. _

"No, Tara, like I said, he'll be with me. We'll be back Friday." Not noticing the blonde's face looking downcast, Kim turned around again and walked out of the gym, still deeply aggravated.

* * *

After the walk home with an angry Kim, Ron was happy to go into his house without having to worry about irritating her further. Though she and Bonnie hated each other with a passion, this seemed, to Ron's limited grasp on the concept of female drama, to be more serious. Case in point, Kim didn't rapidly rant about Bonnie on the way home, she just walked on his side, fuming silently, not even noticing when he said he'd see her later that day when he dropped her off at her door.

Stepping into his room, he felt Rufus (who was hiding in Ron's pocket the whole time, worried Kim would explode) crawl up his arm to his shoulder, shrugging his small frame when Ron looked at him in confusion of what was going on with his best friend. The naked mole-rat jumped onto Ron's bed as his owner sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

His stuff was packed already. He did that late last night after talking with Kim. It was no fun as his muscles were already strained from all the housework he did, but he knew he probably wouldn't have time the following day. His mother was out at the moment, possibly shopping, so she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to him before he left, but Ron didn't mind all that much. His father, however, was home, which was good because Ron still needed to ask him to borrow something.

Dragging an over-sized suitcase out of the closet and into the hallway to make moving it later a little easier, Ron thought about Luxembourg, being around Kim for the whole week, and his personal problems, all three of which were popular topics on his mind in recent times.

_Should I call her now? Nah, she'd still be busy. It hasn't been that long since we left._ He shifted his gaze over the clock and saw that he didn't have to be at Kim's house for another hour and a half. _Well, I could always talk to Dad. I need to figure out how to ask him about the book, anyways._ Walking to his father's study, he considered the positive effects of being able to relax in Luxembourg and not having to deal with any of the drama at home. He knocked on the door to his father's private room.

"Come in, son," his father's voice said, coming through the door. Ron complied.

* * *

"Mom, it's so not necessary," the red-headed girl said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Kim," Mrs. Possible replied sternly, "you'll be gone for at least three days, the least you can do is say goodbye to your brothers."

"But Mom, the Tweebs don't care whether or not I say goodbye, so it really doesn't matter," she said, trying to appeal to her mother's logical sense, which didn't work in this case.

"Kimberly Ann Possible, go say goodbye to your brothers. Then afterwards you can get your bags from upstairs and bring them down, and say farewell to your father," her mother demanded, and added when Kim didn't move, "this is not a suggestion, Kim. Please do it now."

_This is so not fair_, Kim thought, who turned from her mother and began the short walk to the twins' room. Barging in without knocking, she said, sounding annoyed, "Tweebs, I'm off to Luxembourg, don't be here when I get back."

Ignoring the latter of her statement, Tim replied "Okay, be sure to pick up a multi-directional jamming array. Dr. Ernsdorf's prototype is on display somewhere in Grevebmacher."

Jim looked over at his brother, confusion on his face, and asked, "Nah, you sure you want that? I heard there were major flaws in the aerial input/output schematic design."

"Yeah, so we can improve on it," Tim replied, rolling his eyes, "duh."

"Hoo-sha," Jim said, high-fiving his brother.

"Ugh," Kim exclaimed, "so not doing that. Don't blow up the house, please." She turned to walk out of the room, ignoring the retorts about not having enough rocket fuel for that. _Okay, I have to be outside in around 20 minutes for my ride. Saying goodbye to my parents shouldn't take too long. Should I call Ron?_

She doubted Ron forgot the time to meet, but then again, she didn't remember saying much to him on the walk home as she was preoccupied with thoughts on what Bonnie said. Actually, now that she thought about it, she didn't recall saying a single word to him, but she supposed she at least said goodbye. What Bonnie said, though as tame for her as far as her insults go, really got to her, and it wasn't until 30 minutes after Kim got home that she finally cooled down. _I should probably call and apologize, even though it's not my fault. I don't want this long mission to start off with him thinking I'm mad with him._

Reaching her room, she grabbed the phone and dialed his number, more than just a little annoyed when the busy signal was all she could hear. _His parents could have waited a little longer before calling anybody_, Kim thought, slamming the receiver down and violently grabbing the one suitcase. Rolling it down the hallway after placing her duffle bag on her shoulders, she now had everything luggage-wise. She reached the dining room where just an hour prior she had an early dinner. Her father was chatting with her mother, not noticing her entrance until she coughed lightly in her hand.

"Ah, Kimmie-cub, come and sit down," her father said, patting an empty chair next to him.

"I, um, don't really have the time. My ride's going to be here in five minutes and I don't think I should make them wait."

"That's my Kimmie, always cordial and polite," Mr. Possible commented, a charming smile on his face.

Her mother, on the other hand, wore a worried look on her face. "Kim, if you need us for anything, don't be afraid to have Wade patch you through at any time. Also, take care of Ron, Kimmie. He's not," her mother paused, perhaps looking for a polite way to word her statement, "well, strong like you. Just try and make sure he stays safe."

She stopped talking all of the sudden, looking as if she wanted to say something more, but before she had the chance, Kim hugged her tightly.

"I'll miss you, Mom, but you know I have to do this." _It's only going to be a week at most_, she knew, _so why is this so hard to leave?_

Her mother slowly stroked Kim's hair. "You'll be fine, Kim, you always are. Just remember to be careful and keep Ron safe."

"Yeah," Kim replied, letting her mother go, "I will. Kay, Mom, see you later." Shifting over to her father, she pulled him into a quick by affectionate hug.

"Kimmie-cub, you'll be back here before you know it. Who knows, you might even enjoy Luxembourg. There's a lot of beautiful scenery," her father said in a comforting tone.

"Eh, I may not have a lot of time, you know, with the homework and protecting and all, but thanks." She let him go and walked to the front door, opened it, and looked back.

"Have a great time, Kimmie," her father said, waving alongside his wife. Giving them a weak smile, Kim Possible stepped outside into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**First off, I forgot this important phrase in my first chapter, that being Kim Possible and assorted characters are the property of Disney. Both Johann Trotzer and Robert are original characters.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated, so if possible, please review this after reading, either constructive criticism or just kind words. Like before, the following chapter will be published within two weeks after this chapter is first published. Enjoy.**

* * *

The night was cool, almost chilly, as a low moon hung above Kim's head. Leaning against the door of the garage, the girl felt incredibly lonely despite the fact that her parents were no more than 30 feet away. She glanced up to the already starry night, amazed that it got dark so early. Sighing, she remembered a time when she and Ron were children, and they camped in her backyard, a tent and all (this was before his horrible Camp Wannaweep experience). They ate smores (which were just regular, non-melted marshmallows as her parents forbade any actual flames), looked through magazines, and lay outside in their sleeping bags gazing at the stars. It was an innocent and uncomplicated friendship; both Kim and Ron enjoyed each other's company and that was the end of it. Neither one was tainted by another's drama because, for the most part, they were too young for drama.

_It's all different now. Something's going on with Ron and maybe Bonnie's involved. I didn't notice a thing intensify between them, if it is her, but either way it's dragging him down. I can help him, I know I can. I just need him to open up to me, and maybe, with luck, he'll be okay and our relationship can grow. _She blushed at this thought, trying to drive it from her mind. _It's thoughts like this that can compromise my mission. Concentrate on the mission, then Ron._ Even while thinking this, Kim knew there was no possible way to do that. Her mind was barraged with similar thoughts for the next two minutes until her Kimmunicator went off. Snatching it from her pocket, happy for the distraction from her confusing thoughts, she said "Go, Wade."

"Hope your night's going well, Kim," said the younger boy cordially. "I just have some more info for you. Your ride's delayed a bit, but he'll be there in 15 minutes, so don't worry. Once you get on board, the ETA will be about an hour, meaning you'll get there around 12:30, so I recommend trying to get to sleep as soon as you can. Trotzer promises to share some additional information with you upon your arrival. He lives in a castle, moderately-sized, so don't be surprised when you see it." He paused, looking away from Kim for a second. He sighed, and looked back. "Kim, I don't know that much about these would-be assassins. Because of the ambiguity of the note in the first place, it's hard to know who's going to do this. Most likely it's some kind of corporate attack on his former company, but I don't know for sure. I bring this up because, while Trotzer doesn't want the local law enforcement involved, don't hesitate to ask for them, especially if you're going to go up against guys with semi-automatic weaponry. I do not want either one of you coming back shot; your parents would kill me." Though he said this last bit in a joking tone, Kim could tell his was being completely serious with his warning.

Semi-shocked by his words, but not comprehending the full implications, Kim just shrugged her shoulders, replying "Sure thing, Wade. I'll keep that option open." Behind the small screen Wade nodded, then glanced around Kim's body.

"Is Ron there yet," Wade asked, his tone changing slightly, which Kim noted.

"Uh, no, but I'm sure he'll be here soon. You could, you know, always check on his location," she put forward slyly, knowing he had him chipped.

Wade snorted. "Kim, you really think that I would have him chipped for life? That first chip expired months ago."

Narrowing her eyes, not quite believing him (though Wade was very intelligent, he was far from the best liar), Kim replied "Really?"

Not making eye contact, Wade nodded his head. "Of course, I don't want to violate ethics too terribly."

His voice was entirely unbelievable, but Kim let it go. "Well, anyways, he should be here. Why do you ask?" Wade sighed, looking as if he didn't want to answer her question. "Wade," she urged, her voice raising ever so slightly, "what?"

"Well, the thing is, Kim," started the younger boy, with a worried edge in his voice, "we both know Ron's performance in school is far from stellar. His test scores from earlier today were, pardon my French, atrocious. They were a disaster, Kim. I hate to say this, but Ron shouldn't be going with you on this one, he should stay and make sure he can still pass high school. He doesn't need you dragging him off on a mission that might last the rest of the week." Seeing Kim turning red with anger (which, even though the moon and stars brightened what he could see, was still quite a feat), Wade hastily spoke again, rushed. "You can't really deny that Ron is only going with you to be with his best friend. Naturally, I've always been concerned about his safety, but this mission in particular worries me because I know virtually nothing about the assassins."

"Are you saying," Kim began, in a tone so venomous that Wade physically recoiled in his chair though they were miles away, "that I can't keep Ron safe? He's never gotten seriously hurt on a mission. Never."

_I cannot believe Wade said that. Even a slightly dangerous Luxembourg is better for Ron then a lonely Middleton because at least I'd be there and he needs me right now._

"Depends on what you mean by serious, I guess. He's had a few nasty scraps and even a broken bone or two. That stuff you do isn't child's play," Wade commented, rubbing his forehead. "Maybe he's not as safe with you as you think."

"Goodnight, Wade," Kim angrily spat, turning the device off. _How dare he? Ron's the safest when he's with me. Anyways, I'd be dead ten times over if it weren't for him or Rufus helping me out of a sitch._ Upon thinking that, Kim quickly shook her head, only to realize that, while on the surface it sounded ludicrous, it was completely true. She needed Ron just as much as Ron needed her. _It's so clear, why didn't I see it before?_

"Heya, KP," a voice rang out in the dark. Kim jumped, not seeing Ron's approaching figure until he was virtually in front of her. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me."

"Uh, yeah, no," Kim chuckled nervously. "I was, uh, thinking of Latin." Even though she thought anyone who couldn't see through that lie would have had to be blind, Ron accepted it with no problem. _You're such an idiot sometimes, _Kim thought fondly.

"Huh, yeah, I'd say that's cool in Latin but, you know, I don't know how." He glanced over his shoulder. "Is our ride late?"

"Only a delay," Kim said, studying her friend, noticing he was breathing heavily. "You okay, Ron? You seem out of breath."

"So not, KP. I was just getting my exercise for the day," he replied, nodding to the suitcases at his feet that Kim didn't see until now. "What, you didn't expect me to be strong enough," he sniffed, making a face of faux disappointment.

"I- no, it's not that. Just, why didn't you call me or something? I would have helped you carry them, or better yet, why didn't you ask your parents for a ride?"

"My mom was out and my father was working," he stated simply, seemingly unconcerned about the whole matter as he wiped a small amount of perspiration. He shrugged, saying "It's not that big of a deal."

A small frown formed on Kim's face. She recalled thinking earlier today that Ron's parents were the most care-free people she knew, but this lack of responsibility was taking it a bit far. _It's not even a 15 minute drive_, she thought angrily. Deciding not to criticize his parents openly, she just gave the noncommittal reply of "Uh-huh. Did you have everything you'll need for the time we're there?"

He nodded, looking as if he was thinking hard. "I believe so. Clothes, Rufus, some snackage," he listed, holding up a finger for each item. "Yeah, KP, I'd say I have everything."

"Your notebooks for homework," Kim asked, hoping they wouldn't need to make a quick stop to pick up any forgotten pieces of luggage.

"Duh, of course. You don't really think that I'd –," Ron started, but was cut off by a low rumbling, causing Rufus to wake up and crawl up Ron's arm to his blonde hair. "What is that, KP," the boy cried, freaking out to comical, over-exaggerated extent.

"That should be our ride," Kim said as she shook her head and smiled.

A sleek, black jet landed vertically onto the street in front of her in a smooth motion. A small door opened and a younger man appeared in the frame, with a straight face and a good tan. "Kim Possible, how fantastic it is to see you," he called out in a jolly tone, waving at her.

Picking up her suitcase and duffle bag next to her, she made to move toward the jet, but the man (whose name, if Kim recalled correctly, was either Roger or Robert) jumped down saying "No, no, no, let me get the luggage. My pilot would help," he stated, nodding his head to the cockpit of the jet, "but after a small incident on the way here he just needs to rest a little." He strutted over to Kim's luggage and lifted them, revealing strong muscles beneath the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

"Thanks, Robert," (Kim hoped she choose correctly and luckily she apparently had as she received a large smile in return), "can you get Ron's too," she asked, hoping to save Ron the struggle of having to push it into the belly of the plane.

"Sure," came Robert's reply, while loading her bags into the jet. Grabbing Ron's hand, she walked to the opening and climbed in, helping Ron in after her. Moving toward the darkened back of the jet, Kim felt both Ron shiver slightly (he's never been a big fan of dark spaces) and Rufus scramble back into the pocket he calls home.

"Think there's a light in here somewhere, KP," he asked, holding her hand tighter, which Kim honestly didn't mind too much. They both jumped as they heard a door shut and Robert's footsteps behind them.

"Of course," his voice boomed, amplified by the small space of the room. "Sorry it's so dark in here, but the bright lights give Lenny, the pilot," he nodded to the front of the jet to the cockpit, a room that was only divided from the small amount of passenger seats by a purple curtain, "a headache and I thought it best he flies us to Luxembourg with a clear head." He reached his hand over to a wall and switched on a semi-dull but perfectly comfortable fluorescence light. "There you go."

They were standing in the short body of the jet. Kim saw her friend go over to sit down in the back, about 30 feet from the dividing purple curtain. Their luggage was placed on a set of shelves in the middle of the jet, within arm-reach of where Kim currently was standing. She turned to face a smiling Robert.

"Thanks for the ride," Kim told him cordially.

He waved his hands as if there were no reason at all to thank him. "I'm obliged to help you after you saved my daughter from that paragliding mishap."

"No big, at least it wasn't snowing too badly. I hope she's not still having any free-falling nightmares," Kim replied.

"Only a few a week, but they'll fade, I'm sure." He turned away, saying "I'll go alert Lenny. Get ready for takeoff. I'll be sitting up in the cockpit, so if you two need anything, just come and get me." He lowered his voice, nodded his head toward something, which turned out to be Ron, and said "Your boyfriend okay? He seems pretty tired."

Blushing at the wording of the question, Kim turned her head and saw him leaning back with his eyes closed, possibly sleeping. "Uh, yeah, he should be. He walked to my place with his stuff so he just needs to rest a little, I think." _No reason to correct his assumption about me dating him_, Kim thought, wondering if she even really wanted to take their relationship to that level.

"Well, okay," he said, still looking slightly concerned but trusting her judgment, "like I said, if you need anything, you know what to do. It'll be about an hour, give or take ten minutes depending on wind patterns." He walked up and pulled the curtain open, causing some older man quickly lift his head. Looking groggily over at Robert, he asked if they were ready to go, to which the younger man nodded. Slowly closing the curtain, he gave one last smile to Kim before he was obscured.

She grabbed her duffle bag which had her school books and Ron's smaller article of luggage, which she thought might contain his notebooks and other school-related objects. Walking back toward Ron, she smiled at the way his head limply hung off his shoulder. Rufus was lying on his stomach to Ron's left side so as not to disturb him, she gently sat on his right, understanding perfectly well how her friend could be asleep; these cushioned seats were very comfortable. Her mind sighed. _I don't want to wake him; he's been through the a lot today. Still, the sooner we start this homework, the better. I actually would like to enjoy Luxembourg and not be stuck inside all day working. _She nudged him playfully with her elbow just as she felt the aircraft rise, and started heading toward their destination.

"Are you awake, Ron?"

Immediately straightening his neck, his eyes snapped open and replied, "Of course, KP. But, you know, after lugging my stuff here I just feel wiped out. What up?"

"Well, first off, we're flying, so we're not at my place anymore," Kim said, nodded her head to a window were the passing stars could easily been seen. "And to answer your question, I thought we could start on some h-work now. You know, the sooner we get done, the better," she said, and after looking at his limp arms, added, "maybe we can start on something writing-light."

Ron hopefully asked "Like nothing?"

She scoffed. "Ugh, no, like algebra." Ron grimaced. "Is there a calculator in here, Ron?" She motioned to Ron's bag at her feet.

Ron thought for a second. "Uh, should be," came the reply, leading to Kim opening the bag. It was a split second after she did when Ron remembered what else he stored in that bag, and his eyes widened slightly.

"What's this," the curious voice of Kim asked, holding a thick, hardback book in both hands with a very non-descriptive black cover. _This is so not school-related. No wonder his arms were tired._

"It's, uh, nothing KP. Just something I'm reading," he spoke, hesitatingly, holding out his hands for the book, which Kim didn't give him. She quickly opened it to a random page to try and get a gauge on what it was about (if it was _A Brief History of Cheese, Volume Two_, it would be obvious to tell; only so many things can hold her best friend's attention) but Ron snatched it out of her hands, shocking Kim.

"Rude much," she asked angrily, tending to her index finger which got caught while the book was violently shut. "Ron, what's the ish? It's just a book." He just stared at her with a look she understood but did not at all like: distrust. Attempting to sound more interested then annoyed (which, at this point, was difficult) she asked "What is the book?"

Delaying a few seconds, Kim saw that he let down his defenses, apparently seeing no harm in supplying her with the answers she desired. "It's a Chumash," he said slowly, "at least that's what my father says it's called. Sorta like a Bible, only for, you know, Jews." Though the reason for bringing the book eluded her, she could tell her felt uncomfortable talking about it and thought about dropping the questions, but curiosity got the best of her.

"A chew-mass," she repeated, pronouncing slowly. "Why even bring it, you've never brought this book before." She eyed him with suspicion, only feeling slightly guilty for this line of questioning. _For all I know, maybe it's part of whatever his problem is_. With that thought in mind, she persisted and asked why again.

"Well, I borrowed it from my dad, so I didn't have it before," Ron replied defensively. "It's just, I've been looking through it more since-" He stopped suddenly, looking as though he felt he revealed too much. He gulped.

Aggravated by the cloak and dagger surrounding the book, she rolled her eyes and asked mockingly "Since what, last week's Temple adventure?"

"Hey," Ron said, raising his voice slightly, "what's with your 'tude? I'm allowed to bring whatever books I want to bring. What's the big problem?" He looked genuinely angry, something that Kim didn't see often.

About to retort, Kim stopped herself. _What the hell am I doing? What difference does it make why he brought the book? It's none of my business. _Her posture changed, her shoulders slumping instead of looking as though she was ready for battle. "Ron," she said softly, looking down, "I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"It's, uh, no big, KP," Ron said, his face instantly transforming back into his regular, calm self, and he began uneasily rubbing the back of his neck while looking away. "Sorry I sort of yelled at you. That wasn't cool of me." The awkward silence overtook them for the next minute or two before Ron said something, which unfortunately only heightened the awkwardness. "Me and Tara were in a relationship."

Snapping Kim out of her daze, she shrieked "WHAT," causing Rufus to wake up and cower in a crevice near Ron's left foot.

"Hey," the voice of Robert called through the curtain, "everything okay back there?"

Her voice sputtering, Kim just replied "Ye-Yes, it's fine, sorry." She faced Ron and looked in straight in his eyes. "Are you serious?" Kim was awe-struck, to say the least.

He nodded, following up on his confession. "We started dating, like, a month and a half ago. We kept it secret because Tara didn't want Bonnie to, you know, totally flip."

A plethora of questions run through Kim's head, so many in fact she couldn't get a grasp on just one she wanted to ask. _Why didn't he tell me? When did he have time to see her? Is this why he's so off? Why didn't I notice before? Has he given any signs that I missed? How far did the relationship go? Where do I start? _She begged herself desperately. "Why didn't you tell me," she asked, as her breathing rate increased, already feeling emotional. What she was feeling was more than shock and anger; she felt hurt.

Ron tugged at his shirt collar, not looking at her while answering. "Well, like I said, Tara sort of didn't want anyone to know and she made me promise not to tell anyone."

"Okay, makes sense I guess, but it's me, your best friend," she said incredulously.

"Um, well," he started, his nervousness near breaking point, "Tara thought that you might be jealous for some reason, so she told me to hold off for a bit."

Kim lost it. _That little tramp! _"Jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous? Like I care who you date or screw or-"

Feeling Rufus shaking at his feet, Ron cut her off. "Whoa, whoa, KP, calm down. It wasn't like that. Remember what I said, Kim? I said 'Me and Tara were in a relationship.' '_Were_," he stressed, causing the fuming red-head to cool down a little, though not by much. Her insides were still a maelstrom of fury.

"What happened," she asked, not really sure how much of this conversation she could take before she got sick.

Ron looked as though he was thinking the question over carefully before answering, biting his lower lip while doing so. He finally replied. "It was like this, KP: I went over to her house for dinner once and it was going well enough but I think some joke I said made her father call me an unambitious slacker or something like that and it got awkward so I left." To Kim, it didn't sound like a big deal, but maybe Ron's sensitive side took offense or maybe the way her father said it disturbed him. Regardless of how she thought he should feel about the situation, he was still depressed. _Who am I to judge him?_

"Ron," Kim said, her anger beginning to ebb away for his sake, "I don't see how that would have ended the relationship. Did Tara break up with you or something?"

He shook his head. "It's a little more complicated than that, KP. Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but it's over now and we can move on." At that moment, his stomach grumbled, and a look of shock appeared on his face. "I haven't eaten since lunch today," he frantically said.

Put off by the sudden shift in the conversation, Kim decided to just give him his space for now. _We'll be in Luxembourg for a week. I think I'll have time to bring it up later. At least I have a basic understanding of what's been going on with him. _Not to leave his statement unanswered, she asked "Really? You're telling me you didn't eat a thing between lunch and now?" She knew that with that question, their serious conversation was at its end for now.

"Don't remind me," Ron groaned, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Kim rolled her eyes. "Didn't you say you brought some 'snackage' along," she asked, eyeing the larger piece of luggage he brought with him.

"Yeah, but I'm saving it for when we actually get there, you know, in case the guy doesn't have food."

She slapped her forehead. "Ron, this guy is going to have food. He'll probably have something set up when we get there or at least leftovers from his late dinner, which reminds me," she said, thinking of what Wade (who still made her grit her teeth) told her, "Wade said we should try to get to sleep as soon as possible. We don't have a week to adjust to the time shift so the first day might be a little miserable." _Like either of us needs more of that_, she thought bitterly.

Still leaning back, Ron muttered something that sounded like "Fantastic" but said no more. Rufus, who apparently sensed that the danger had ended, climbed up Ron's leg and arm then squeaked rapid rodent words into his ear. Sighing, he told his pet "Okay, fine. Kim," he turned to her, "in the outermost pouch of my suitcase there should be a Smarty Mart bag with some stuff in it. Could you get it, please?"

Most times, Kim would make a joke about him being lazy or scoff at his request and decline, but she knew that he was having far from a good day, so she said "Sure." She stood up and stretched (even though she's not been sitting down for too long, it was stressful and stress always made Kim cramp up), and walked to his suitcase. She pointed to what she thought was the right pocket. "This one, Ron?" He stretched his neck to get a better angle, and nodded.

Unzipping the pouch, Kim saw the Smarty Mart bag, and grabbed it, pulling a folded piece of notebook paper out with it. This caught Kim's eye, as it looked like a note. Though they were a common sight in high school, there were some people who don't usually receive or write notes; Ron was one of those people. Without thinking, she swiftly picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. She stood up and walked back to Ron, who was talking with Rufus and not paying attention to her, holding out the bag.

"Here you go," she said, hoping she wasn't interrupting any kind of important conversation between a master and his pet. He took it from her hands gently and Kim sat down again, mulling over her reasoning for taking the note. Had it been a normal ride to a mission, she would have left it alone. Sure, she would have been intrigued and probably joke to Ron about it, teasing him about having a secret girlfriend but as he actually _did _have a secret girlfriend, as he revealed, she felt she almost had the right to take it. Maybe it's from Tara; maybe it's a reminder that there was a half-off deal of Pop Pop Porter's Mini Corn Dogs at Smarty Mart. _I so should not have taken it_, she though, feeling guilty all over again, but realizing she couldn't back out now.

_Wait, I just took a note; Ron didn't tell me he was dating somebody. I think he broke the boundaries of our friendship more. _Looking over at Ron, she couldn't believe how blissfully unaware he appeared to be about her feelings or how unconcerned he seemed about betraying her. Though they haven't even started their mission officially, Kim just wanted to quit and go home so she could lie on her bed.

"KP," Ron said, interrupting her thoughts, "you want any?" He was holding out a bag of gummy worms, and despite the stress, pain, and confusion of the night, she smiled and accepted, putting her slender hand into the bag and pulling out a few that were sticking together.

"Thanks," Kim said, eating the rubber candy even though her stomach wasn't exactly what she considered stable. She saw Ron give a few to Rufus, and for the next forty minutes, the three of them slowly ate through two bags. They didn't talk much, aside from small talk every now and then, but Kim preferred it this way. The atmosphere wasn't heavy; if anything, she thought it was peaceful. In fact, she almost dozed off six minutes after wrestling the last gummy worm away from Rufus' grubby paws, but she became alert again when Robert called out from the cockpit.

"We'll be there in six minutes."

Looking at her unopened duffle bag at her feet, Kim sighed. "You know," she said, looking over at Ron, "we'll have to really start on this homework tomorrow, so get some good rest so that head of yours tomorrow is ready."

Ron moaned. "I guess I'm pretty tired anyways and those worms filled me up sort of, so I think I'll be able to get to sleep quickly."

"That's the spirit," she replied optimistically. _Though I don't think I can say the same. I'm beat, but with everything that Ron said tonight, I have a lot of thinking to do_. "We can start cracking at it tomorrow after breakfast."

"Are we parachuting out or landing," Ron asked, trying to ignore the prospect of doing homework (though even he agreed they have too much to ignore for too long).

"Um," Kim stalled, unsure, looking at the cockpit, "I'll go ask." She stood up and walked toward the curtain, knocking on the metal plating on the wall to attract Robert's attention. The curtain opened and Robert looked back.

"Yes, Miss Possible?"

"Please," she said, waving her hand, "call me Kim. I was just wondering if we were landing or jumping out."

Robert looked surprised by the question. "Landing, of course. I thought you had enough sky diving in your life."

"I guess it just comes with the teen-hero thing."

He laughed pleasantly. "Well, I'm glad you found your goal in life. You help people; you have a boyfriend willing to travel with you. You just have a good heart."

Kim's stomach churned as she squirmed slightly. Hearing Ron being referred to as her boyfriend didn't bother her the first time around, but after their conversation, she just wanted to banish the thought from her mind. "You're too kind," she replied, smiling while straining to keep her emotional turmoil out of the picture.

"Nonsense, you saved my Lily, and I can never thank you or praise you enough," he stated. Unsure of how to reply adequately, Kim just smiled back. "Anyway," he began, his voice now taking on a more business-like tone then before, as he turned away and faced the windshield of the jet, "you'll probably want to sit down. Sometimes landings can be a bit bumpy."

Remembering the jet landing on her street earlier that night, Kim had no doubts that was true, and nodded her head. She turned and made her way back to Ron.

"Landing," Kim said simply, sitting back down. Both Ron and Rufus gave audible sighs of relief. Ron stuffed the empty gummy worm bags into a nearby trash canister and stood up, wobbling for a second (_Well,_ Kim thought, _he has been sitting for a long time_) and grabbed his Smarty Mart snack bag off the seat (and away from Rufus, who Kim could tell was eyeing it with extreme interest). He took it over to his suitcase and bent down, sliding the zipper open and gently placing the bag in the pouch where Kim got it (and the note). _I forgot; the note._ She blushed.

Kim felt her pocket to make sure she didn't lose it somehow (which she didn't). Still not sure if she intended on reading it or not, Kim hastily moved her hand when Ron turned back to her.

He looked over to her and spoke while walking back. "Sorry we couldn't get any h-work done. I know you wanted a head start."

She shook her head. "Its fine, Ron. We just need to work extra hard tomorrow. Don't worry, it'll get done," she added when a look of doubt appeared on his face. He sat down without replying.

They both were suddenly jolted forward as the jet stopped moving forward. "Sorry about that," Robert's voice called back, "I should have warned you. We're landing now, and once we hit ground I'll help you unpack your stuff."

The descent of the jet, totally vertical, was a strange feeling to Kim, and from the look on Ron's face, he thought the same thing. Kim thought the best way to describe it was going down in an elevator, only at a much noticeably quicker pace. After 40 seconds of this awkward landing, the jet hit the ground with a smoothness that surprised Kim.

The hatch opened and Kim stood up with her bag over her shoulders and jumped down, instantly bombarded by the brightness of the night stars. She heard Ron fall out next to her, somehow landing on his back, but no major damage was done. Kim helped him up and they stood in silence at the sight before them.

The castle was, by the looks of it, at least seven stories tall and built with traditional stone. There was no moat (though Kim did spot a pond far off in the distance) or drawbridge, but everything else about it screamed medieval. The massive doors alone were enough to make Kim think that whoever owned this place had to be directly related to royalty.

"KP, this is amazing." She looked over to Ron and saw that the castle held every ounce of awe he could muster. Rufus was also staring from Ron's pocket and she could tell he felt much the same was as his owner did.

"Yeah, it is," was all Kim could say. Looking back toward the jet, she saw Robert climbing down with all of their remaining luggage. He walked up to them, looking at the castle in amazement himself.

"Wow, you sure treat your guy well," he teased, not taking his eyes off the structure that Kim and Ron would be spending at least the next three days in.

Glancing over at Ron and checking that he didn't catch Robert's words (he didn't; he was still enthralled with the castle), she turned to the young man and again thanked him. "Thank Lenny for us, too," she politely said, looking up at the front of the jet trying to catch a glimpse of the one who flew them there.

"Of course," he nodded, "do you want me to your things to the castle door," he asked, still not looking at her.

"Nah, its fine. We can take it from here, right Ron?" Not hearing him reply, Kim looked his way and saw he was still in a trance. Shoving his shoulder lightly, she repeated his name. "Ron, snap out of it."

He shook his head and looked at her in confusion. "Huh?"

"You're bag, Ron" she replied, annoyed, motioning to Robert, "get it." Kim walked over and Robert handed her stuff to her. After considering it for a few seconds, she also took Ron's suitcase, lightening the load he'd need to carry substantially. They waved goodbye to Robert after Ron got his bag and started walking to the castle doors.

Kim heard the jet lift off just before they reached the massive door frame of the tall, wooden doors. Before she could put one of the suitcases down to knock, the door opened inward revealing a large hallway, dimly lit by flicking lights from another room. An elderly man ushered them in and shut the door behind them.

"Welcome, Miss Possible. I am Johann Trotzer," the old man said in a polite but low voice, bowing his head of thin, gray hair which hadn't lost its luster. He was dressed in a body-length navy blue robe with gold trimmings and a pair of gray slacks beneath them. He also wore some silver slippers with silk black socks. Kim was surprised that, as old as he was, he was still in decent shape. He was only slightly hunched over, his right hand holding the handle of a cane. His height was just slightly below that of Ron. He was also quite thin, but that didn't shock her; she figured that if she reached 90-years old, she wouldn't be the healthiest person around. "I apologize," he continued, "for the lack of assistance in bringing your luggage in. I regret that while I am decidedly wealthy, I keep no servants around my house. I'm afraid you'll have to take your own stuff up to your rooms when we go."

Slightly saddened but glad to see he wasn't cranky or impolite like some elderly people were, she replied "No big, Mr. Trotzer. Just glad we could be here to help." Ron smiled alongside her, unsure if he should speak or not.

"I do hope my English is acceptable," he stated, starting to walk to a large room to the right of the doors, his cane making tapping sounds on the stone floor, "I have only been to your country twice in the 1980's when my company – well, former company, decided to retail our products there."

"It's more than perfect," Kim replied, walking beside him (with Ron following her) and fighting the urge not to move at a quicker pace. His English was superb, she truly thought, though his European accent, most likely German, was easily distinguishable.

"Ah, you are far too kind. Oh –" he stopped walking suddenly and turned toward her, holding out his left hand. "I'm terribly sorry for my lack of manners. I have been up since this morning and I guess that chivalry went with the time." Kim shook his hand lightly, afraid his bony fingers would crack under the pressure of a normal handshake. "And you, young man," he said to Ron, holding out his hand.

Smirking, Kim could easily tell that Ron was not used to such formal behavior and awkwardly shook his hand. "I'm, um, Ron Stoppable, Kim's sidekick." He glanced over to his friend with an uncertain look in his eyes.

"Glad you two could make it here. I hope your ride was at least decent," he said, letting go of Ron's hand and continued walking, stepping into a room with no door, which seemed to be a living room of sorts. From his route, he appeared to be walking to a plush chair in front of the fireplace.

"It was fine," she politely replied. "Sorry you had to stay up so late to receive us." Ron gave her a strange look for the vocabulary she used, but Kim ignored him.

He waved his free hand dismissively, saying "Absolutely no problem at all." He reached his chair and sat down, leaving Kim and Ron towering above him. "I'll be glad to slow you to your rooms if you wish, but only after you two eat something. I can't imagine either of you are particularly tired yet anyways. Oh, what I would give to be young again," he said, the last part in a dreamy voice.

Ron looked sideways at Kim for what she believed was approval to speak. Kim just mouthed _you're fine, talk to him_. Clearing his throat, Ron said "Uh, Mr. Trotzer, where is the kitchen? I wouldn't mind some snackage – uh, I mean food before I go to sleep. I won't make a mess." That last statement struck Kim as very true; when it came to cooking, Ron was the best chef she knew.

"Nonsense, boy," Trotzer said in a polite but befuddled tone, eyeing him with confusion. "I have some food lain out on the dining table. No need to make anything yourself unless you want to."

"Oh," Ron said, looking surprised, "I thought you said you had no butlers or people like that."

Trotzer nodded his head. "You are quite correct. However, I am quite a proficient chef. That is one of the few pleasures which have not abandoned me in my old age. I still cook and prepare every meal I eat. Naturally, I get lonely sometimes, but cooking keeps me busy. I have," he paused, contemplating for a second, "ham, turkey, salmon, some sides such as peas and corn on the cob, and some strudels and more on the dining table. You may take what you wish and I'll clear the table prior to my retiring to my room."

A large grin appeared on Ron's face, and Kim could swear she heard Rufus say _Boo-yah _from his pocket.

"The dining room is just across from this room. You can eat in there and I'll just read a little, but I must ask you, Miss Possible," he said, looking at Kim, "to please bring me one of those strudels. The batch came out better than I had anticipated and I wanted to enjoy one more."

"Of course," Kim said. "We'll be, um," she looked over at Ron, knowing he was probably quite hungry, "around 30 minutes. Are you sure you don't want the strudel now?"

"Yes, it can wait. I probably shouldn't eat it anyways according to my physician, but I like to treat myself occasionally." He chuckled and grabbed a book off the coffee table next to him. "Take your time." And with that, he opened the book and began reading.

Kim walked to the opening of the room followed closely by Ron whom she suspected was afraid he might get lost (even thought they were just going across the hall). She glanced down the long hallway and saw the grand staircase, which lead to the second floor, where she thought their rooms would be. She supposed there was an elevator around here for Mr. Trotzer since Kim found it doubtful he walked up and down those stairs every day at his age. As the place was so massive (she had absolutely no idea what the top five floors could even be used for) however, she didn't even try to locate it.

Walking straight across the hallway, her eyes widened when she saw the dining table. _He made this all himself? _The absurdly long table was lined with food, looking akin to any buffet she's ever been to. Rufus already escaped from Ron's pocket and was munching on one of the aforementioned strudels. Looking to her side, she saw that Ron could hardly contain his excitement. Even Kim, who had a dinner (albeit rather light), felt her mouth watering. Before Ron could move forward, Kim grabbed his left shoulder.

"What, KP," he asked, looking back at her with eyes pleading to be let go.

"I really don't want to keep him waiting, so let's try to eat quickly, okay?" She felt bad about limiting their time to eat but if they wanted to have any kind of a normal sleeping schedule the following week, she knew they'd probably have to be asleep within the next hour.

Ron nodded, replying "Fine, KP, can do."

And they did. Without eating like animals (aside from Rufus, who was exempt, and Ron, when he saw some tacos) they filled themselves up in 23 minutes (according to the clock Kim was eyeing carefully). Wrapping up a strudel carefully in a napkin for Mr. Trotzer, they went back to the living room; the flickering flames making both feel the weariness of the day. Rufus, in fact, was already asleep in Ron's pocket.

"Here you go, Mr. Trotzer," Kim said, handing him the pastry he himself made.

"Why, thank you, Miss Possible," he replied kindly, quickly setting his book down and accepting the strudel.

"Wade, the guy who set this up," Kim started, and Trotzer nodded, indicating he knew who she was talking about, "said you'd share more information on this whole death threat when we got here," she said, thinking it felt nice to finally get down to business.

"Of course," Trotzer said, taking a small bite out of the end of the pastry. "I received the death threat in letter form about a week ago. It was lodged in my door and since I don't receive mail anymore, this means they obviously know I live here and can easily access the grounds."

"Do you have the note," Kim asked, wanting to inspect it, mostly just for the reasoning behind the threat.

"I do," he said hesitatingly, "but it's written in Luxembourgish. Not very useful to you, I'd think."

Kim sighed. "Yeah, Latin's hard enough." Ron coughed in his hand and Kim thought she heard a _true dat_. Suppressing a slight smile, she asked "Out of interest, why did you come to me before the police? I mean, I guess it doesn't matter, but it seems sort of, well, suspicious." Hoping the accusation didn't wound his pride or anger him, she was relieved to see he was still smiling politely when answering.

"To put it bluntly, Miss Possible," he said, his voice intensifying by a large margin, "I don't trust the police. Bribery runs amok; drugs and prostitution are never dealt with in the correct manner. Other indecent and immoral actions take place as if this were a university fraternity gathering." He stopped; looking embarrassed, coughed once into a handkerchief he pulled out of his robe, and then continued, sounding calmer. "I apologize for the rant. It sickens me what this country I love is turning into. But in short, that is why I came to you and not the authority in my own backyard."

"Seems reasonable enough," Kim replied, surprised Wade still recommended the police force if she was in actual danger. _Well_, Kim thought, _I shouldn't expect him to know everything about everywhere, should I? _Shaking her head to clear her mind, Kim formed her next question. "Who's targeting you and why?"

This question bothered Trotzer, as evidenced by the way he finished eating what remained of the strudel slowly before answering. "That, Miss Possible, is something I don't think is relevant." He kept his polite tone, but his voice seemed colder. She saw Ron fidget nervously beside her out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, it might help us out a bit," she said, feeling a small bit of annoyance.

He crumpled the empty napkin and dropped it into a waste bucket, then folded his hands on his lap. Kim got the impression that he was thinking very carefully about how to word his reply. "The assassins," he started finally, "will be rather professional, I'd wager, were I the betting type. I've seen your accomplishments, though, and I trust they'd not be too difficult for you. As to the reason, I respectively decline to inform you."

"And the reason for that is why," Kim asked, her eyes flashing with anger.

"I have a suspicion that upon you knowing such information would compromise your willingness to achieve your objective in this agreement," he said cryptically. "I assure you, it really doesn't make a difference; these people are still trying to kill me, does their reasoning really matter?"

By this point Kim was very aggravated, but before she replied in what she was sure would be an abrasive fashion, Ron put his hand on her shoulder. "KP, chill, its fine. He's right, it doesn't really matter," he said in a calm tone.

"Thank you, Mr. Stoppable," Trotzer said courteously, bowing his head to him.

Soothed slightly by Ron's touch, Kim decided to let it go. "I don't like it, Mr. Trotzer, but for now I'll let you keep your secrets."

He nodded solemnly. "I'm pleased to hear it. Are you two ready to be shown to your rooms or have you more inquiries?"

Ron took his hand off Kim, implying he again trusted her judgment. "Our rooms, I think," she said, feeling as though she could definitely do with some sleep.

"Okay," Mr. Trotzer said, reaching for his cane and slowly standing up, "grab your luggage and follow me." He moved around the chair toward the main hallway, walking slowly but with determination. They walked past three sets of doors before reaching the grand staircase Kim saw earlier. Trotzer looked up the stairs and sighed, visibly making a decision he deemed difficult. "I'm not sure I can show you to your rooms. They're on the third floor and I, well," he paused, looking flustered, "don't think-"

Kim cut him off. "It's okay, we understand perfectly. Where on the third floor?"

"They're the first set of doors once you get off the staircase to the third floor. The rooms are right across from each other. I put a, um," he fumbled with his words, closing his eyes to concentrate (Kim could tell he's had a very trying day) "uh, markers on the doorknobs. A sort of thing you'd see in hotels. I tended to the rooms yesterday. They're rather large and both have an adjoining bathroom so you can clean up properly. I regret that I would not journey into the other rooms were I you. Everything is so dusty. To tell you two a secret in trust you'd not tell others, I haven't even been on the fifth floor or above for 20 years. I always wondered what treasures are lurking up there I've long since forgotten." His eyes looked unfocused for a second, perhaps, Kim thought, trying to remember. He shook his head lightly and continued.

"I turned the beds over and there are an ample amount of sheets should you find them necessary. I always keep a fire stoked in my room, which, by the way, should you need me, is on the second floor, but the castle is fitted with central heating and a thermostat should be near the light switch." He ceased talking, and looked to each of them. "I do apologize to both of you for boring you and leaving you to find the rooms yourself, but I must tend to the dining room prior to going to bed myself."

"Its fine, Mr. Trotzer, don't worry. Ron and I are more than capable of finding a few marked rooms. Are you sure you don't want any help in the dining room," she asked, more out of courtesy than anything; she was almost positive he'd decline.

"Of course, Miss Possible. Are you two sure you've had enough to eat?"

Kim glanced over at Ron, who nodded. "Yep, pretty sure," she said, looking back.

"Well then, I bid you goodnight," he replied, bowing his head again.

"Likewise, Mr. Trotzer." She and Ron turned and started up the stairs with their luggage, which was slowing them down, though not as badly as Kim had anticipated it would. The stairs and halls were dark, but Kim was used to low lighting and could make do well enough.

"KP, I get you're tired," Ron started in a low voice, quivering slightly due to the darkness, "but why didn't you help him with the dining room? You saw everything he had out. At his speed it'll take him an hour to clean it all up."

"Ron," Kim scoffed, holding his arm to make sure he didn't knock anything down, "that's insensitive. A man like Trotzer wants to be independent for as long as he can. If you do everything for older people because you think they can't handle it, they'll start to believe it too and it'd depress them. Believe me, Ron, if he wants help, he'll ask for it."

Walking down the second floor hallway to the opposing end to reach the second flight of stairs, the true size of the castle struck her. She didn't hear Trotzer say how many floors there were, but she suspected at least seven, though there could easily have been more. She shivered slightly thinking about how dusty the top floors would be.

Feeling the involuntary motion, Ron asked, as they started up the stairs to the third floor, "Are you cold, Kim?" His voice was strained by the weight of the suitcase he was carrying, though she made no mention of this, not wanting to potentially embarrass Ron.

"No, it's just that," she paused for a second, tightening her grip on her own suitcase, "this place is so massive. It's hard to believe a guy can live here alone. He must be really lonely." In fact, though she would never tell Ron, the situation, when she really thought about it, made her eyes tear up. _I know I so could not do it. I'd have to move into some retirement home just to be around people_.

"Well, he's probably used to it by now, KP," he commented, shrugging. Though not particularly deep words, Kim agreed. _He'd have to be._ She saw one of the white markers on a doorknob, and sure enough, the room directly across from it also had one. They each looked at their respective doors standing in awkward silence, going over the events of the day in their heads.

"Um, goodnight Ron," Kim said, feeling her heart constrict for some reason.

"Yeah, goodnight KP," he replied, dragging his stuff over to his room. He opened the door, gave her a quick goofy smile, and shut it. Kim entered her room seconds later.

Her room was gorgeous. The bed was humongous; perhaps three times the size of Kim's back home. The room had an un-lived in atmosphere about it, but Trotzer didn't exaggerate when he claimed to have tended to it, as it was perfectly clean.

Wanting to get to sleep quickly, she opened her suitcase and dug through it to find her pajama top and bottom. She walked to the door which she presumed led to the bathroom, which it did. Turning the knob on the tub and letting the water run warm, she thought about how just six hours ago she was in school taking tests. Now she was in Luxembourg living in luxury. _This is so cool_, she thought, while stripping and getting into the shower. For the first time that day, she felt truly happy.

* * *

After showering, dressing, and brushing her teeth, she walked back into the bedroom, feeling slightly chilly. She rushed over to the thermostat and turned it to the perfectly comfortable 60 degrees. She then went to the one window in her room, admiring the view even though all she could see was a giant forest.

_I so do not want to chase these assassins through that._ She then jumped on her bed, already feeling her consciousness slip.

_Well, today was eventful to say the least. Ron's sad that Tara's father dislikes him and they've been dating behind my back for over a month. I cannot believe I didn't notice anything between them. What the hell is up with that?_

As hard as Kim tried, she couldn't cease the rapid fire of thoughts ricocheting around her mind.

_Does this mean Ron never felt anything… more between us? Will he now that Tara's out of the picture? Maybe if I can make his time here really memorable – damn it, we still have all that homework to do. I can't make Ron happy when we have to do homework all day. Stupid Barkin, he could have at least lightened the load. We are helping save someone's life but does he give a damn? Never, he just tortures Ron by intimidating him and –_

The Kimmunicator went off on Kim's nightstand. She grabbed it, her last conversation with Wade already in her mind. Clutching a bed sheet tightly, she said "Yes, Wade?"

Wade wore a strange look on his face, a combination of guilt and happiness. "Glad you made it there safely. I was worried the malfunction the jet had earlier before would have affected your trip."

"What," she asked in a loud whisper, trying not to wake up Ron, "you sent us to Luxembourg in a damaged aircraft?"

"Not quite, Kim," he replied, "there had just been a minor full engine failure. The pilot, Lenny, I think, said it was nothing terrible and I trusted his judgment. So, how's Trotzer?"

Rather than get into another argument with Wade, she didn't reference the engine failure when replying. "He's a pretty nice guy, though he won't tell us exactly why he being targeted, which is a bit annoying."

Wade looked surprised. "He won't? Does that mean it doesn't have to do with the fact he's a former CEO?"

Kim shrugged. "I don't know, maybe he embezzled money or something before he left," she offered as a solution, not believing it for an instance.

"He didn't leave, Kim," Wade said typing quickly on his keyboard, "he was virtually forced out because some very influential stockholders thought he was too old and a liability for the company. This was in," he stalled, reading more, "1993. He would have been 78 at the time. Actually, it's amazing he kept control for as long as he did." He looked back at Kim, "Point is, there's nothing to suggest anything like you're saying. I just recommend you try and gain his trust and maybe he'll tell you. Either way, I'm sure the reason will be clear when the assassins strike."

"Well," she said, pausing to unsuccessfully attempt to stifle a yawn, "sorry Wade, I'm tired. It's been a long night. I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

"I agree, that's our only course of action really. I just called to check on you," Wade said, then swallowed once before he continued, "and to - I'm sorry, Kim, about what I said earlier tonight. I know how protective you are over Ron. You'd never lead him to a situation you couldn't keep in check, I know."

"Uh," Kim uttered, taken aback as she wasn't expecting an apology, "well, I accept your apology. Sorry I got so snappy with you."

Wade's face dropped its guilty look and smiled. "Its fine, I understand. We cool, Kim?"

"Only if you spy on Bonnie and make sure she doesn't ruin my Squad," she joked, happy to be back on Wade's good side.

"Hey, easy-peasy. Wait," he said, his face turning serious again, "was that a joke or do you actually want me to spy?"

"Can you," she asked, smirking.

"Never doubt my abilities, Kim. It's a dangerous path to take," he said, winking.

Laughing, Kim said goodnight to Wade and he said the same to her. Shutting off the Kimmunicator, she placed it back on the nightstand and was about to turn off the lamp when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said, expecting it to be Trotzer to share more information with her (_Wishful thinking much?_) so was surprised to see Ron standing in his pajamas, drying hair as it looks he just took a shower, and holding a sheet in his arms. Rufus was on his shoulder.

"Ron? What up," Kim inquired, surprised to be seeing him again tonight.

"Well, I heard you laughing and I, uh, wanted to see what I was missing," he replied, glancing around her room before focusing on Kim.

"I was just chatting with Wade, that's all. Anything else?"

He hesitated before answering, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Uh, I know my room has a light and everything and a nice bed but it's sort of, um, spooky, KP." He added, sounding as though he was trying to convince her, "You know, it's big and has shadows and with the lights off, it's scary." Kim now understood what he was about to ask and almost laughed, but stopped herself. "Could I, um, sleep in your room, like a corner or something? I brought my own sheet and I promise not to keep you up."

"Ron, you're not sleeping in my corner," Kim replied, rolling her eyes at the fact he didn't see the obvious.

Ron's head dropped, his eyes went to his feet. "Oh, um, sorry for bothering you. I-"

"You can sleep in my bed," she said, cutting him off, trying not to blush herself about saying so. The fact was that the bed was very big and there'd be more than enough room for him to sleep there without even making contact with her body (_not that_, upon introspection, _I'd have a big problem with that_.)

If possible, Ron's face got even redder. "Uh, you sure KP?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Look at this bed. You really think that it'll be a problem?"

"Um, no, I guess," he replied, his eyes averting hers.

"Ron," Kim started, making sure she didn't sound too pushy, "do you really have a problem sleeping next to me? We did it all the time when we were kids." This was sort of true, though they usually used sleeping bags. Still, the various times Ron slept over at her house (which Kim always found strange; it was always her house and never his – perhaps Ron's parents had just been too busy to deal with two small children) made her think that it shouldn't be as awkward as he was making it.

"No way, KP," he replied, walking to the empty side of the bed, "I'm completely fine with this; it's not awkweird at all."

"Well," Kim said as he climbed in the bed and slid under the covers, "at least it's better than the corner." He laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, this isn't too bad. Actually, Tara once-" He stopped, realizing what and where he was saying, and more importantly, who he was saying it to.

Kim heard perfectly well what he had said, much to her chagrin. _He's in bed with me and still thinks about Tara_, she bitterly thought. "Goodnight, Ron, get the light," she told him in a cold voice, turning her body over so she wouldn't face him.

Ron knew he made a mistake mentioning her, but what he didn't realize was how much it hurt Kim. He sighed and replied "Kay, KP, sure. Sweet dreams." He turned the lamp off then laid his head back on the pillow while Rufus made a small bed on the nightstand out of a very comfortable washcloth he snatched out of Ron's bathroom. Within minutes, despite all the revelations and stress of the day, all three were asleep.

* * *

Stretching his small arms out, Rufus slowly opened his eyes. The room was still dark; much too dark to be morning. Looking around the room for the source of what woke him, he saw their bedroom door was ajar and a figure was standing in the hall watching them. His mind processed this and said "Uh-oh."

He jumped from his makeshift bed onto Ron, who was by this point deep asleep. Rufus scurried up his body and started shoving his owner's face to one side, trying to wake him. He began to stir after 15 seconds.

* * *

The sight before Ron was an odd one. He was in a classroom, sort of, and Mr. Barkin was standing at the front wearing a… chef's hat. As if that weren't strange enough, an empty pool table was next to him with Duff Killigan swimming in it. Also, he saw – he did a double take. Duff Killigan was _swimming_ in a pool table.

"What's going on," he heard his distant voice ask.

"Aye, laddie, ye think ye wee little mind ken know," came a reply out of Barkin's mouth.

"He switched our bodies, Stoppable! Get me out of this table!" yelled Killigan.

Ron frantically looked around for Kim, who was much more the hero then he was. "Hey, KP, where are you?" The door to the class room, which was now one of Drakken's old lairs, burst open and in ran… Brick Flagg. Wearing an astronaut's suit.

"I'm here, Ron, I'll save you," came a voice above him, and with the help of her handy grappling hair-dryer Tara swung down, kicking Felix in the face, who was not there five seconds ago. While Tara was doing this, the astronaut Flagg walked slowly and menacingly up to Ron and punched him off the stool he was sitting on. He landed in a shopping cart full of nacos which dug into his back as the nachos were really sharp.

Screaming in pain, he stood up, just as Barkin was running at him. "Laddie, yer lugs are too semple."

Not sure what this even meant, Ron still didn't think it sounded good, so started running the opposite direction to where a monkey ninja was juggling batteries. Unafraid for some reason, he run past it and straight into a cave lined with lit matches on the wall, causing a sudden blindness. He was abruptly knocked down, his head hitting the ground. He screamed in pain. Whoever pushed him down was now kicking his head lightly. He thought he felt a sticky wet substance on his neck, and he was holding out his arms in a defensive position, but Ron still felt the foot make contact with his head.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you, KP," he whispered before blacking out.

Though he still felt the foot kicking his head. Slowly opening his eyes, Ron squinted in the dark. _What happened to all the matches? _He heard a chattering sound and looked to the left, and saw a small shape ramming its body into his head. _That's not a foot. It's… Rufus!_

Seeing Ron was awake, he jumped on his chest and rapidly squeaked at him. He caught a few words such as door, man, and standing, but it made no sense to him. "Rufus, lil Buddy, let me sleep. It'll be okay, let me go fight Barkin," he said groggily. Lightly shoving Rufus off, he pulled a cover over his head.

Irritated and confused, the mole rat looked to the door, seeing it now shut. Worried, he jumped back to the nightstand and lay back on his washcloth, trying to stay alert, but eventually, his eyes drooped, and he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**This chapter has some mature, risque moments, but as the story's placed under 'Mature' I should be fine. It's pretty tame, regardless. Also, there is a potential for historical liberties, though nothing is messed up intentionally (for better or for worse).**

**This chapter is slightly shorter than the last one (and first one, for that matter) but I still hope it finds the approval to those who read it. As always, I welcome any comments, be them criticism or words portraying kindness. Reviews are always great, so if possible, please right one, just to let me know I'm doing something right. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the next one should be up within two weeks after this one is first published.**

* * *

Kim turned over and opened her eyes. Unlike a majority of times waking up, this had no stages, no in-between period of being asleep and awake. _Sort of strange, but it's too early to think about this_ became her first thought of the day. A dim sunlight was pouring into the room, causing a calming atmosphere, and she would have gone back to sleep had she thought she could manage it. _I'm awake now, though, so no reason to linger._ Ron was facing her direction, still sleeping. A small smile appeared on her lips as she wondered what he was dreaming about, but faded when she remembered some of the last words he said before they fell asleep.

_He never finished his statement_, Kim realized. _Tara once what? He was lying in bed with me and brought her up? What the hell was he thinking?_ She sighed and turned onto her back. Kim didn't believe for a second that Ron and Tara's relationship went _that _far, but then again, Kim only found about it yesterday and as sweet as Tara appears, maybe she would have tried to take advantage of his affection. _Damn her. Tara easily could have told me about the relationship; she's had plenty of chances. And Ron ..._. Now her insides were bubbling again. _It's too early to think about this too, Kim, so stop._

So instead of mulling over her thoughts, she slowly sat up as to not disturb Ron, who Kim thought might be asleep for the next hour, at least. Lightly placing her feet on the floor, she walked over to her suitcase in search of her outfit for the day. _I should probably unpack my stuff later; I don't want to live like a slob for a week._ Finding a perfectly suitable red shirt, she dug a bit more for some pants, which she found quickly thereafter. Checking once more that Ron was peacefully sleeping (she did not want him waking up when she was taking a shower; he was freaked out enough by just sleeping in the same bed as her, so his reaction would be beyond extreme) and walked into the bathroom.

* * *

Hearing someone shifting through their luggage (_Kim, probably_, he thought), Ron tried to shut out the sound, wanting to go back to sleep. He had the feeling he woke up in the middle of the night, though he had no recollection of the event in his mind. Hearing a door open and shut, he rolled over; grabbing one of the sheets Kim had the most access to. He heard the sound of the showering turning on and his eyes shot open. In just one room over, Kim was taking a shower. Blushing deeply, Ron sat up, trying not to imagine the scene in his mind (which was akin to trying not to breathe). He himself had no intentions of taking a shower this morning (_I took one last night, I so do not need one_) but he figured that now he was awake, he should get dressed. Stretching out his arms in front of him, he looked to the nightstand and saw Rufus was still asleep. Yawning, he stood up and decided to wake him up a little later. _He'll be fine for ten minutes_. With his eyes averting the bathroom door, he walked over to the bedroom door and left the room to change and brush his teeth. Yawning again, Ron shut the bedroom door gently.

Walking directly across the hallway, not tarrying for a second (even in the daytime, Ron found this giant castle creepy and it caused slight shivers to run down his spine) and went into his room, which was slightly chilly for some reason. _Oh, yeah, I shut the heat off before I went to Kim's room. That was sorta stupid._ Though it was far from really cold, he still turned the thermostat up a substantial amount so the room could warm up quickly, then walked over to his closet and picked out a blue jersey he never wore much along with a pair of pants with Rufus-approved pockets. Dressing quickly, he thought about what he and Kim would be up to today, assuming the assassins wouldn't come early. _Probably just some homework and talking to the old guy_.

Ron actually liked Trotzer. Aside from his strange way of talking (both accent- and vocabulary-wise), he was very polite and treated them both with respect, though perhaps he was a bit too formal. _Also_, Ron added to himself, _that dude can cook_. Even with the downsides, he was much nicer than he had imagined he'd be, which made him believe this whole mission wouldn't be too much of a deal, no matter how professional these assassins will be. _Kim's taken down Cuddle Buddy mutant… things; she can take down some guys with no prob._

Going into the bathroom, which is where he left his toothbrush, he glanced himself over in the mirror. He had small bags under his eyes, but then again, Ron reminded himself, he wasn't feeling the best yesterday morning. Actually, he wasn't feeling too hot for most of the day, but the jet ride was pretty peaceful. Carrying all the luggage to Kim's house and then again up to his room, however, did not do his arms any favors, as they felt very sore. _Thank God Barkin can't assign any P.E. homework._

Swishing water around his mouth, he spat out into the sink and smiled to himself, making sure he didn't miss anything (he ate a lot last night despite Kim limiting their time, so it was possible), and satisfied with what he saw, Ron turned the sink faucet off and was on his way to wake up Rufus when he noticed his nightstand drawer was open, which he didn't remember doing. Of course, his mind was hazy, and more so, he didn't recall putting anything in the drawer, so it hardly mattered when it came down to it. He didn't recall paying it any attention the previous night, but shrugging to himself, he just stepped over and shut it. _It's too early for some mystery_. With that in mind, he let it go and went back into Kim's room, feeling refreshed and ready for the new day.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, Kim grabbed a small towel and began drying her hair, which now smelled like peach-strawberry, assuming the shampoo had worked properly. Leaving her hair wrapped in a towel, she grabbed another towel to dry off her body, thinking about, for the first time that day, her mission.

_Wade just told me to gain his trust, but I'm sure that won't work_. _I mean, does it really matter why he's being targeted?_ This thought confused Kim. _I mean, I guess it doesn't, but it seems to be an important factor in any kind of assassination attempt. Well, at least he didn't lie to me or anything. He honestly told me he didn't think I needed to know. Could've been much worse. I guess I just have to persevere and ask again or it'll bother me until the assassins get here. _She sighed to herself. _It's only a small thing anyways._

Throwing the damp towel she used to dry her body into a laundry basket, she removed the other towel from her head and felt that her hair was mostly dry. _It will do for now, anyway_. Tossing that towel with the other one, she walked over to the clothes she brought in with her to change into. Going through the few articles, she realized she forgot something.

_Damn it, my bra, I must have left it in the suitcase. Ron should still be sleep, he looked pretty wiped out_, she reasoned, but to make sure, she put her ear to the door. Hearing nothing, but deciding to play it safe, she wrapped herself in a body-length towel, covering her chest to a few inches above her knees. Opening the bathroom door, she shuffled out, instantly seeing Ron sitting up on the bed and looking up from a magazine he was reading.

"Kim!" he shouted, immediately shielding his eyes and blushing.

Quickly backtracking into the bathroom and shutting the door most of the way, her face turning red, she called out, "Ron, it's fine now, I'm behind a door." The fact of the matter was that Kim didn't have a problem being dressed around him in this state, but she had no doubt that it'd be slightly uncomfortable for Ron. _He has got to be more mature about stuff like this_, she thought, annoyed.

She heard Ron ask something to the effect "What were you doing?"

Thinking it obvious, Kim growled. "Ron, either leave the room or help me out, okay?"

She heard him gulp. "What do you need, KP?"

"One of my bras, which should be in my suitcase. I forgot to bring it in here."

There was a delay before she received a response, which only greatened her annoyance.

"Uh, are you positive," he asked, hesitantly.

"Ron, do you think I'd walk out there half-naked if I wasn't? Just open my suitcase and bring me one. Please," she added forcefully.

"Um, I could just leave the room and let you-," he started before being cut off by an infuriated Kim.

"It's a bra, Ron. A piece of clothing, it won't attack you. Just bring it to me."

Hearing nothing for ten seconds, she was about to say something else but then heard footsteps. Sighing in relief, she could hear the zipper of her suitcase being opened. Having no idea how awkward this was for Ron, she tapped her foot impatiently. "Ron, what's the hold up?"

His voice replied in a croak. "Pink or white?"

Not understanding, she asked "What," for clarification.

Ron coughed to clear his throat. "The pink one or the white one?" His voice was obviously strained, and for the first time during the situation, Kim wondered how much he was blushing.

"The pink one, please," she replied, biting the urge to add sarcasm to her statement.

She heard him stepping over to the door and put his hand through the small gap. Ron was holding the bra by the back strap with two fingers, as if it contained something contagious. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed it saying "Thank you, Ron, for not making that awkward."

He quickly withdrew his hand and Kim shut the door to finally get dressed. _I'm completely dry now, on the bright side_, she thought bitterly, happy there was an upside for this. Dressing quickly now that she had all her articles of clothing and brushing her teeth, she stepped into her room to find Ron with his back turned toward her. "Ron, it's fine now, I'm dressed."

"I'm sorry, KP, I should've told you I was awake or something." Hearing him say this in his newly (well, semi-newly) acquired depressed tone worried Kim and her previous annoyance with this situation ebbed away completely.

"Its fine, Ron. It's not that big of a deal, okay," she stated, and added "it's more my fault anyway. I forgot to grab a bra and when I noticed, I came into the room thinking you'd still be asleep."

He fidgeted slightly at the word bra, making Kim wonder if he really was 17 and not 11, but said nothing. Ron was still facing away from her, which, above anything, made her nervous.

"Turn around, Ron. Look at me." He obeyed, and she could fully see how embarrassed he was. His face was red enough for the both of them, and Kim had a feeling its shade matched her hair. "It wasn't that bad. So you saw me in a towel and held my bra for five seconds. It could have been far worse." _Especially when grabbing the towel in the first place was an afterthought._

Ron looked unsure, but nodded anyway. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes again, she said, "Go wake Rufus up and we can head down to breakfast. That'll get your mind off it, I'm sure," she finished, teasing him.

He still had a look of doubtfulness on his face but smiled nonetheless. "Sure thing, KP." He walked over to his pet and gently shoved him, causing Rufus to wake up. "Hey there, Rufus, ready for some breakfast?"

"Mmm, breakfast, yummy," came the reply, which caused both Ron and Kim to smile. The mole rat stretched out a little, and then jumped into Ron's pocket, ready to go.

Kim opened the door and both she and Ron began the what she thought would amount to a nine-minute journey to the dining room (which was easier this morning as there was no luggage to carry). Ron was rather silent, and though he's never been much of a morning person, Kim didn't believe for a second that that was the reason.

Innocently, she asked "Ron, what's on your mind?"

"Uh, nothing, KP, you know," he replied, trailing off and seemingly unfocused.

"If it's about what happened-" Kim began.

"No!" he yelled, looking at her, blushing. "Well, maybe, but just-"

"Is that going to be the high point of our week here," Kim asked, not believing he couldn't just forget it, as she really did consider it a small thing.

"No, it's just that-" he started saying, sounding unsure if he wanted to finish or not.

"Just what, Ron? Did you see something," she asked, wondering if the towel was covering everything she intended it to. She assumed that it had because Ron hadn't fainted.

"Nothin' like that," he replied, blushing wildly. "It's just that, uh, something like that happened to me before with Tara."

Blushing furiously, she fought the urge to shout, so instead bitterly spat, "What?"

Determined not to look at her, he relayed his story. "She got into a fight with her dad, so she decided to sleep over at my place a little while back. She woke up before me and took a shower, but forgot to bring a change of clothes with her 'cause she had other things on her mind, and she didn't want to put the clothes on she had because she slept in them and wanted them washed first. I, um," he paused, awkwardly pulling at his shirt collar, "gave her one of my jerseys to wear until her stuff could be run through the washer and drier."

Again, Kim questioned to herself how far their relationship went. The image of a nearly naked Tara sitting on Ron's bed only wearing one of his jerseys did not at all bode well in her mind. "Oh," she replied blankly, not believing that happened to Ron or more importantly, he was telling her.

"KP, I'm just trying to, like, come clean. I don't want this coming between our friendship," he said, looking at her with a serious look in his eyes.

_Bit late for that_. "Just… let's not talk about it right now," Kim said, both of them reaching the staircase leading to the first floor. "Maybe we can talk about it after we do some homework, but not right now."

He dropped his head. "Sure thing, KP."

They reached the dining room seconds later. Trotzer was sitting on the far end of the table, eating what looked to be fried eggs and bacon. "Good morning, Mister Stoppable and Miss Possible." Though the words were welcoming and kind, Kim thought his voice seemed oddly cold.

"Uh, likewise, Mr. Trotzer," Kim replied, wondering what his problem was (assuming he had one; she could just be imagining it.)

"Rather late last night," Trotzer began, in a business-like tone, "after clearing the table," nodding to the table in front of him, which now had a plethora of breakfast foods on it, "I made my way upstairs to check on you to make sure you both found the right rooms and such." He stalled for a second to take a small sip of what Kim presumed was coffee. "Perhaps a folly on my part, looking back, I peered in at you two sleeping. Now, make no mistake," he held up one hand defensively, "I am not a judgmental person. I thought you seemed a bit young, but then again, it's important to note, your culture is not my own."

Understanding what he was implying, Kim deeply blushed. "No, Mr. Trotzer, it wasn't like that. Ron just got, um, uneasy in his room," she replied lamely.

"You don't need to make excuses, it's perfectly alright," he said, looking at her with critical eyes.

Kim sighed. Of course, she didn't really expect him to believe what she said. Anybody who didn't know Kim and Ron were just friends immediately assumed they were dating (Robert, for instance), so an elderly man stating such didn't surprise her too much. Ron was standing clueless at her side, not following the conversation apparently. _Oh, ignorance is bliss_, she thought.

"I do apologize for the improper and inappropriate observation; I realize it's none of my business nor concern. I did, however, find something troubling," he stated, his voice changing back to a colder tone.

"Uh, what's that," Kim curiously inquired. "Another note on your door?"

"No," he shook his head, pulling a book off his lap that neither one of them saw, "this."

The book looked familiar to Kim, but she couldn't place it. She was about to ask what it was when Ron chimed in. "Hey, that's my dad's Chumash."

"Your dad's," he said in a feeble voice. A transformation overcame Johann Trotzer. His once kindly eyes became angry slits and he began turning red, as if in extreme anger. He shouted, "GET OUT OF MY HOME, JUDE!" He stood up, and muttered to himself in what Kim thought was German. "Mein eigenes Haus hat durch schmutzige, faule Gesindel verunreinigt worden. Immer an der Schwelle des Todes, meine Vergangenheit verfolgt mich und da steht es, keine Scham in ihm die Augen für seine Sünde."

"Huh, what," Ron asked, looking over at Kim for clarification, and shocked to see her standing there, fuming.

She put the pieces together, however, and didn't reply to Ron, but to Trotzer. "You monster! You're not throwing Ron out because you're a nutcase. You invited us here to help you and we came to do that."

"I did not," he yelled, converting back into English, "invite _that_," (he was pointing at Ron), "into my house. Leave this place now, boy."

Ron stood still, confused. "Kim, what's going on-" She cut him off, holding up her hand to motion him to be quiet.

"His name is Ron and he's not a 'that'," she bitterly spoke, with true anger and fury in her voice. "Listen right now, Trotzer: He will not leave without me. If you're sending him away, I go with him. Simple as that. Think long and hard about whether you want to risk your life on some sick, misguided hatred."

Despite his seemingly frail and weak body, Trotzer flung the book still in his hands over at Ron, and it landed right near his feet. "Hey," Ron shouted, "this is my father's book, don't ruin it."

Glaring at the old man, Kim spoke again. "Ron and I are going up to our rooms. I'll come down in two hours, and if you still want Ron out, we'll go, leaving you to face the assassins yourself. Think about it carefully." Grabbing Ron's shoulder, as he was leaning down to pick up the book, she dragged him back to the staircase despite his protests.

"Hey, KP, what happened? Why didn't we get any breakfast," he whined, cradling the book into his arms, looking worried. "Why was Trotzer so mad? What did we do?"

_I cannot believe Ron doesn't understand_, Kim thought, flabbergasted. "Wait 'til we get to my room, then we can talk," she said, brushing him off, buying her time to wonder about how she was going to break the news to Ron gently. _What the hell was Wade thinking? Did he not catch this in the background check? Should I even stay? _She looked over at Ron and saw he was honestly confused.

Ron didn't like the silence or how Kim shouted at Trotzer, an old man. He had absolutely no idea why Trotzer had his father's Chumash, but at least he knew why his nightstand drawer was open; just before he unpacked his suitcase, he had put the book there for safe keeping, which he forgot that morning for some reason or another – possibly because his mind was still hazy. Glancing to his side, it was obvious that Kim was very mad. He didn't think it had to do with the Tara sitch, based on when the yelling started, but then again, he never did understand the female brain. Still, he knew something was going on and hoped it wasn't too serious, because, as vain as it sounded, he still wanted breakfast and he knew that Rufus also was disappointed that they weren't currently eating something.

Opening her door, Kim stepped into the room, her explanation to Ron perfected in her head. He followed in after her and sat on her bed, looking at Kim with what she considered a pathetic look. She shut the door.

"Kay, KP, we're here, what's going on," he asked glumly.

"Well, uh, remember in history class when we learned about World War II," she asked in a soft tone of voice, afraid of what his reaction would be once he understood the situation.

"Uh, yeah, sure, we watched that boring B&W movie that even put Barkin to sleep," he replied, clearly unsure of how this was related.

"Do you remember who fought the two sides of the war?"

"The U.S. and the Nazis?"

_Close enough_, she said, sighing in her mind. "Okay, Ron, remember what the Nazis believed," she asked, noticing he was deep in thought before answering.

"Of course, they thought Jews were inferior." He stated this as a fact, Kim thought, and not connecting it personally to his own beliefs.

_He's making this so hard_. "Don't freak out, Ron, but I think Trotzer's a former member of the S.S.," she admitted. "A Nazi," she added, when it looked as though the words didn't register in his mind.

"What," he replied in an unbelieving tone. "Just because he shouted at me a little doesn't make him a Nazi, KP."

She slapped her forehead. "After you admitted the Chumash-thingy was yours, he flipped, tried to throw you out of the house and muttered in German. Even if he wasn't a solider back then, and he's old enough to be, he still clearly does not like Jews."

Suddenly it clicked for Ron. "Oh, uh, that… I see," he awkwardly said.

Kim at last felt safe to vent her anger to Ron since he now knew what was going on. "I can't believe Wade sent us to protect a Nazi! He doesn't deserve protecting; for all we know, maybe he deserves to be killed. Ron, get your stuff, we're leaving."

"What happened to giving him time to think about letting us stay," he asked, a confused look coming over his face again.

"I am not protecting him," she coldly replied. "Maybe if he were in prison, he'd be out of danger."

"Okay, KP, so he might be a former Nazi. He did something wrong, like, 60 years ago. I don't see what right we have to abandon him."

"Do I have to spell it out, Ron? You're Jewish; he's a Nazi. It is not a good mix," she replied with great consternation.

"KP, chill, I'm not, ya know, cool with it, but I can make do. I mean, you're Kim Possible, you can do anything, including tolerating some old guy for three days," he said, speaking in a soothing voice, which Kim found amazing, given the circumstances.

"Ron, are you insane," she shrieked, causing him to flinch. "If you think for one second I'm going to protect somebody like this, you must be."

Rufus was cowering in Ron's pocket, so any help from him went out the window. Ron just stood up, saying "KP, I'm going to my room to give you some alone time. Maybe once you've calmed down, we can talk about this in a rational manner." Without giving her any time to object, he walked to her bedroom door and left, and she shortly thereafter heard his own door open and shut.

Pulling out her Kimmunicator to dish it out with Wade, she screamed, "HE'S A NAZI!"

From her small screen, she saw the darkened room light up as Wade turned a lamp next to his bed on. Looking over, he saw her on the screen and jumped up, standing in his blue pajamas. "Kim," he said, groggily, "its 3:30 a.m. here. What about Yahtzee?" He stumbled to the computer chair in an apparent daze.

Kim forgot about the time-zone difference, but found that she didn't really care. "Trotzer's a Nazi."

Caught off guard, Wade stared back, not comprehending her words. "What was that, Kim?"

"Trotzer. Is. A. Nazi," she replied in a calmer voice, enunciating each word slowly to get the point across.

"He's a what," he asked wildly, clearly already having understood her as he quickly began typing on his keyboard. "Listen, Kim, are you sure? I have no evidence to-"

"Wade, he is either a former Nazi or at least very anti-Semantic. I'm leaning towards Nazi."

"How do you know this," he asked, his eyes in rapid movement as he was reading something.

"His rant about Jews in German sort of tipped me off, Wade," she replied sarcastically. A horrible thought entered her mind at that instance. _He didn't tell me about the engine failure, maybe…_. "Did you know, Wade?"

"I still don't even know what's really going on over there, Kim, and I sure as heck didn't send you two to help a former Nazi solider."

"Are you positive, Wade?"

Wade replied sounding as though he were deeply insulted. "There is absolutely nothing in Trotzer's record to indicate he was a Nazi, so I had no idea."

"Talk to me, how could something like that not be obvious?"

"Could be many things," he replied, shrugging. "The records I have of his pre-1950's life could be faked, but I doubt it. From the looks of it, he did nothing worth mentioning until 1953 when he opened a bakery shop in a small village in Luxembourg."

"How old would he have been at the time," she asked.

"Around 38," he replied quickly, probably happy Kim wasn't shouting at him anymore.

"And nothing about his first 30 years of life comes up with red flags?"

"Nothing. He went to school and a university, grades far from remarkable, but okay. Not much on him after 23. Aside from winning some hunting medal in 1947, there's nothing."

"Well, it must be a fake name."

Wade looked at her as though Kim stated the obvious. "If he was a Nazi solider or someone in a position higher up, of course it'd be a fake name. The problem is there is authentication from the time he was born to 1953. With the gaps, I guess it's possible he could have been working for the Nazi party but-"

"Maybe Johann Trotzer is a real name, and he just stole it, like identity theft," she suggested in a flat voice, already realizing how lame it sounded.

Wade's eyes, on the other hand, lit up. "That may be close, Kim. I'll look into that idea."

"I want to cancel this mission. I don't feel comfortable guarding a Nazi. Let's just send the sick freak to prison, he'd be safe there."

"A few problems, Kim. First off, it's more likely Israel would want him to execute him, not that I'm saying there's a problem with that, but he wouldn't be going to prison. More so, at the moment, we have absolutely no proof whatsoever he was a Nazi during World War II, so more likely, nothing could be done legally. If anything, you'd get in trouble for slander."

"Whatever," she said, annoyed. "I still want to leave. This isn't a good environment for Ron."

"Why's it any worse for him than you," he asked curiously.

"He's Jewish, Wade!" she shouted, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, uh," Wade said, clearly forgetting that little tidbit of information, "yeah, that slipped my mind. How's he dealing?" Though he forgot Ron was Jewish, Wade asked this question with a lot of concern in his eyes.

"Better then you'd think. He seems, well, calm about it."

"Well, the Jewish faith always has been the tolerant type," Wade said, more to himself than to Kim. "Does he want to leave?"

"Um, no, he wants me to stick it out," Kim started, and when she saw Wade was about to reply, she sputtered, "bu-but that's not the point. Just because I _can_ help anyone doesn't mean I _should _help anyone, especially if that 'anyone' is a Nazi."

"If anybody has the right to complain in this situation, it's obviously Ron. You're too emotional right now anyways to make a logical decision. It's true," he quickly said, seeing as Kim was about to protest. "If Ron isn't demanding to leave, provided Trotzer doesn't throw him out anyways, then maybe you shouldn't leave."

Kim disagreed and resorted to something she rarely, if ever did: whining. "Wade, please, how can I guard over someone who maybe committed terrible atrocities years ago? Let me go home."

Wade sighed. "Kim, no matter what this guy has or has not done in his life; you have to keep this mission in perspective. He is still human, and there is still an assassination attempt on him."

"Human, Wade? If he did kill Jews in World War II, isn't that distinction a bit of a stretch," she asked bitterly.

"Is something else going on, Kim? Obviously you're peeved at having to protect who you think might be a former Nazi, but even so, you seem more angry then I would expect you to be. What is it?"

Not sure she wanted to disclose every single feeling in her mind, she replied giving an overview, feeling her eyes become moist by only a small amount. "It's what he stands for. It's people like him who would have killed Ron and his family or tortured them in inhumane ways just because they were thought to be impure. Nazis hated Jews so much they resorted to mass murder. It's… disgusting."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Kim. I truly do. The Holocaust for the Jewish population of Europe is debatably far worse than slavery was for the African-American community in the U.S., and this is me saying this. Still, think about it this way: the money he offered still stands. Get this done, give it to a charity, and maybe that will balance out the sickening feeling of guarding over him."

_Damn it, Wade's right. The money could help a lot of kids if I can just tolerate him for a few days. But what about Ron?_ "What if he demands Ron leave? Can he legally do that?"

The younger friend fidgeted a little, straightening out his blue pajama top, before answering. "It is his property, Kim. If he doesn't want Ron on the premises, then Ron really doesn't have any grounding or right to stay."

"Glad we got that cleared up. I told Trotzer that if Ron went, I went," she said stubbornly.

"Are you sure that was the right way to go? I could easily have a ride set up just for Ron and have him back here before school even starts."

"I am not making Ron go anywhere without me next to him," she sternly replied, making it obvious to Wade she meant it.

"Fine, he goes, you go, very mature," he grumbled. He shook his head slightly before he said something else, sounding more optimistic. "At least out of this we do learn a few things."

"What's that," Kim dully replied, feeling a headache coming on.

"First, we know why Trotzer may not have wanted the local police."

"Oh, he told us it was because the police here weren't exactly the most useful cops," Kim replied, remembering how his explanation made sense to her.

"Well, make no mistakes, Kim; they're not. Still, when it comes to saving your life, you'd want all the possible help you could get, even if it includes an inept police force."

"Yeah, I guess."

Wade carried on as though Kim hadn't said anything of importance, which, she realized, was completely accurate. "Secondly, we know why people are going to try to kill him, and with that, I can make a list of likely organizations that'd do this."

"What," Kim asked, shocked. Though she realized he was a Nazi, it was just then it dwelled on her that that was the reason he was being targeted. She didn't make the connection before because, she assumed, too many other thoughts were racing around her mind at the time. "Oh, uh, yeah," she quickly recovered, "are there groups that hunt down former Nazis?"

"Some clandestine military operations, yeah, which means obviously there's a high possibility that these people will be professionals. Mostly these people concentrate on those who made the big decisions in the Nazi Party, but since we don't know too much about Trotzer, we can't rule out that he might have been one with a lot of power." Wade rubbed his eyes and glanced at the time. "Kim, I need you to trust me. I had absolutely no idea that Trotzer might have been a Nazi, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," she resigned, feeling guilty for thinking he would do something as extreme as that without letting her know.

"I need to get some more sleep, Kim. Later today we can talk about it and maybe I'll have some more information, like a list of groups who'd do this. You want me to get you in contact with your parents? It's late, but if you think you want to chat with them…" he asked.

"Uh," Kim replied, considering it. _Well, my mom did say any time._ "Sure, that'd be cool. Have a nice rest of the night, Wade."

Yawning, he said, "Someone should be picking up at your house at any moment. Talk to you later, and goodbye."

Wondering how she was going to explain to her parents what's going on, she listened to the dial tone, waiting for someone to pick up.

* * *

Ron heard Kim talking to someone in her room, probably Wade, and though she shouted a few times, he made no real effort to distinguish the words. He was too focused on his stomach, which was grumbling every minute, as he tried not to binge on his snack foods he still had left in the bag he brought along, because he was hoping on saving them for the ride back to Middleton. All in all, it was not his best morning in recent memory.

Between that thing with Kim in her room earlier and finding out the kindly old man hated him for being Jewish; a lot was running through his mind. _And this is just the first day of the mission_, Ron thought.

He heard a crinkling sound coming from the closet and saw Rufus diving into the aforementioned bag. Ron sighed. It was useless trying to stop him now at this point, so he wasn't even going to bother.

The fact that Trotzer was a former Nazi (according to Kim, anyways, and her word was good enough for Ron) didn't bother him as much as he thought it might have. It's not from a lack of knowledge either; ever since he first heard about the Jewish persecution and the Holocaust, he read up on it in the Middleton Public Library, horrified at what those sick people did, from experiments to methods of execution. For some odd reason, now that he knew he was in close proximity with a Nazi, he felt nothing. In fact, Ron was still more concerned about the incident with Kim then the Nazi revelation.

_Is something wrong with me? Shouldn't I be feeling angry?_ The problem was, Ron thought, even if Trotzer did still actively hate Jews (which was seemingly apparent), he was far too elderly to cause any harm. _How can I hate an old guy for something that happened over half a century ago?_ The answer was simple: he couldn't.

He felt a tugging at his pants leg and saw Rufus, who looked as though he just consumed a lot of food and didn't want to climb. He bent over and picked him up, only then seeing the bag of chocolate mints he was holding out to him, offering him some. Ron smiled, saying "Thanks, lil' Buddy." He reached for a few and popped them in his mouth, happy for at least something to eat (though he'd prefer eggs, of course).

Rufus squeaked back, "No prob," while snuggling on the side of his leg. Stroking his head, Ron thought of various things, hoping for clarity.

_Kim seemed really mad when I brought up Tara. Why is she so angry about it? I'm trying to tell her it doesn't matter anymore, but she's not letting it go. Or is it me not letting it go? _He looked over to the suitcase where he still had Tara's note, even though he's read it enough to recite it by memory. _KP's a great friend, but she can't know what love feels like, aside from that crush she had on Mankey. Do I even love Tara? _Mindlessly chewing on mints, he contemplated this. _Maybe not love, but it's something. She's sweet and feels right, but something's… missing._

He lowered his head into his hands, confused. _I don't want KP mad at me throughout this entire mission and I don't want to let Tara go because her father doesn't like me. She really cares about me. Ah, this is so hard_.

His mind drifted, remembering how much easier his life was as a child. It was just him and Kim facing the world in their optimistic youth, and except for the horrid Camp Wannaweep summer, that's how it always been. _Kim and me. Maybe…_

Ron violently shook his head. _So do not go there. It's sick and wrong. I guess. _Looking for a distraction from what he considered a disturbing thought, he picked up his father's Chumash, which was on his side. Though it wasn't really his father's, he remembered. It was originally his great aunt's. Well, not this copy, his father had explained, but the tradition of owning one started with her.

Ron hadn't thought of his great aunt in years, now. She passed away when he was ten, if his memory served him correctly. He slipped into a daze, thinking about her and all the things he had learned from her stories.

* * *

Yawning, Kim's mom did not sound very awake. _What did I expect; it's 3:30 a.m. there_. "What is it, Kimme? What's wrong?" Her voice was filled with concern even though she probably still had her eyes shut.

"It's, uh, sort of strange," she replied, thinking that's an understatement.

"What, did Ron do something or-" he mother said, her voice worrying more.

"No, it's- remember what my mission was," she asked, trying to find a way to break it to her mother lightly.

"Of course, to protect some older gentleman against an attempted murder."

"Well, mom, turns out this guy is a former Nazi."

Her mother gasped on the other end of the line. "Are you sure?"

"It's a long story, but yes, I'm pretty positive."

"It couldn't perhaps be some kind of misunderstanding, Kimmie," she asked, probably desperately wanting her daughter far away from the castle.

"No, mom, I highly doubt it."

"What are your plans, then, honey?"

Kim paused before answering, surprised. "You're not going to demand me to come home?"

Her mother sighed, saying "No, I think you're mature enough to make your own decisions. I trust your judgment."

"Even if he is a Nazi," Kim asked, sort of hoping her mother would make her go home, keeping Kim away from the responsibility of defending Trotzer.

"The worst he can do at his age is hate speech, Kimmie, and I know that might make you mad, but if won't affect you." She gasped again, sounding as though she just remembered something important. "How's Ron taking it? Sorry, honey, I forgot for a second he was Jewish."

"Oh," she replied dismissively, "he's fine."

"Kimmie, maybe the shock of finding out made him seem fine. Did this man say anything to him?"

"He yelled at him a bit, and then muttered in German, but that's all," Kim said, not seeing the big deal.

Her mother sighed again. "You should go check on him, Kimmie. Maybe he was putting up a front when it happened, but I doubt he's completely okay."

Shifting the conversation back to the predicament she faced, she asked, "Mom, what should I do? Stay and protect the monster or come home?" _Screw maturity, I want to be told._

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," her mother replied soothingly, "I will, however, tell you what you should think about, the factors involved, when making your decision. First off, remember what your father and I taught you, that all human life, no matter what the person has done, is of some value. You're right, Kim, Nazis were monsters and did abhorrent things and they fully deserved to be caught and imprisoned, but killing another person, or by extension, letting another person die, can never come of any good. Furthermore, you made an agreement by arriving that you would help him out of the trouble he's in. You didn't know the full story at the time, but you still agreed, and to turn your back on him in his time of need might be construed as a dishonorable act. On the other hand, if you truly feel uncomfortable protecting him, or more importantly in this case, Ron feels too uncomfortable, then perhaps you'd do best to leave."

Kim definitely had a headache. _There's so much thinking to do._ Pressing forward, she asked another question that was stuck in her mind. "How do I make sure Ron is okay?"

Her mother's voice softened and Kim imagined a small smile coming onto her lips. "Just ask, Kimmie. You two are best friends and I'm sure he'll be honest with you, but also give him his own space if he asks. Something tells me he's doing a lot of pondering himself and you shouldn't crowd him." Kim heard her mother yawn, and decided the conversation should shortly end.

"Okay, I'll try. Ron's been a little, uh, moody recently, so maybe it's for the best I check on him. Thanks, mom. I should probably let you get back to sleep."

"That'd be nice," she said, chuckling. "Whatever choice you make, tell Wade to keep us posted. I'll still love you no matter what you do. Keep Ron safe. Goodbye, Kimmie." Her mother hung up, and Kim set the Kimmunicator downing, thinking of Ron.

_I'll check in on him and let him decide if we go or stay. I may despise Trotzer for what he believes, but I guess Wade was right; he's still human. After that, we should probably go eat. I can't imagine how hungry Ron is, but I know I shouldn't starve him. What do I do about Trotzer, though? I don't even know if he wants us to stay. I can't let him be killed, though. I know that now._

She stood up and walked over to her suitcase and grabbed a bottle of aspirin (_Stupid headache_) she packed just in case things got hectic. Things, in her mind, were now hectic. Taking two, she went to the bathroom and grabbed a plastic cup to the side of the sink and filled it with cool water. She swallowed the two capsules and closed her eyes to relax for a second. _I can't believe my biggest concern an hour ago was trying to get Ron to pick up my bra. It's amazing where life can take you,_ she thought, opening her eyes and walked to her bedroom door.

* * *

Kim lightly knocked on Ron's door, not believing she didn't think of checking to make sure he was really okay herself. Also, letting him make the final decision on whether to stay or go was important, and needed answering now. "Come in," he said, his voice sounding more distant than he actually was.

She stepped into the room and saw Ron sitting on his bed with his head cradled in his hands. Rufus was eating something that appeared to be mints, but Ron, by and large, seemed unconcerned. "Hey there," she softly said, sitting on his left side.

"What's our plan, KP," he asked without looking up.

"Oh, uh," she stalled, finding it awkward letting Ron make a key decision in a mission, "I'm leaving that up to you. Do you think we should stay or go?"

Ron's face looked surprised from her angle, but he said nothing to indicate he was. He appeared to be weighing the pros and cons of each possibility, so he took 30 seconds to answer. "We should stay, KP."

Distraught with his choice, she challenged him. "But… why, Ron? I don't understand you. Do you not think he's a Nazi? Do you have any idea what these people did to Jews in World War II?"

"Kim," he replied, looking at her for the first time since she entered the room, his eyes appearing watery, "did you ever think I might maybe know a little more about what they did to Jews then you would?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ron, you were the first one to fall asleep during that movie, I don't really think-"

"Forget the dang movie, KP," he replied angrily. "That movie was a stylized, albeit dated, Hollywood adaptation of a brutal war. Anything they showed involving Jews, such as the camps and gas chambers, had to be edited as to not disturb those who went to see it in theaters. Anyways, it was the 1940's, so they wouldn't have shown much to begin with even if they wanted to. I'm talking about real-life knowledge here."

"Like what," Kim asked, unsure of what he could be referring to.

"My grandmother's sister – my great aunt – passed away when I was around ten, but before she did, I'd go over to her house with my family and some other aunts and uncles once a month to visit her. I was the youngest person there and the grownups would always be in the kitchen or living room talking about boring stuff. I'd go into my great aunt's room because she'd be lonely, and she'd tell me stories about her life."

He rubbed his eyes for a second then carried on, Kim listening with rapt attention, noticing his voice's pitch go up and down. "She lived in Germany when Hitler took over, and at the age of 15, she and her family were moved into a camp. They were there for two years, and when the camp was liberated, she was the only one in her family left. Her parents and uncles, plus her two brothers and three sisters, were all killed. She said that piles of decomposing bodies just kept growing, and one night, she woke up and saw her youngest sister, who was eight, on top of one of the piles." His voice broke and he lowered his head into his hands again for a few seconds.

Kim said nothing, expecting him to continue, though not really wanting to hear more. He did after a little while. "I once asked her one of the last times I saw her if she was ever mad or wanted revenge. She told me, and this has always stuck with me in the back of my mind somewhere, that if we hated them the same way they hated us, we'd have learned nothing from history and we'd be no different or better off. Don't you see, KP," he looked up, and Kim saw a small tear in the corner of his right eye, "that we have to stay? If we leave, if we can't be tolerant, that it comes down to the same thing the Nazis did? He'd be dead and we'd be partly to blame. We have to make sure that doesn't happen." He stopped, and looked down to his knees. "I'm not insane for wanting to help him, KP."

Kim literally had no idea how to respond. She was speechless. To think that Ron knew nothing about the Holocaust was very stupid on her part. She was furious with herself. _Damn it, Kim, what kind of friend are you? Of course Ron would probably know more about what happened to the Jews then I would, no matter how many movies he slept through. What's more, he's completely right. Ron is 100% right._

"I-I didn't mean to call you crazy, Ron," Kim started, putting her right hand on his forearm, "I was just really irritated about the situation. You're right, though. We-we have to stay. It won't be easy, but-"

He cut her off gently. "It's not a matter of what is easy, it's a matter of what is right. It would have been easy to let Hitler take over all of Europe and wipe out the Jews, but it was right to fight back to make sure that didn't happen. That's what it comes down to."

"That is, if he doesn't throw us out, which is still a possibility," Kim added, not believing how philosophical Ron was at the moment.

"Not us, KP. Me. I've been thinking about it. If he still wants me to leave, then I'll leave, but you should stay."

"No way, Ron. I need you here just as much as you'd need me back in Middleton," she replied, trying to wrap her mind around Ron's reasoning for such a valiant offer. In the back of her mind, she was thinking of another reason she didn't Ron going back to Middleton without her, and that reason was, as guilty as it made her feel, Tara.

Ron shrugged. "It's still a possibility."

"No, it's not. Listen, Ron, that is so not happening. I'll fight for you to stay if I have to, and if I can't make him see the stupid error of his choice to send you away, I'll go with you."

Though by his words he didn't agree with her plan, he still flashed a smile. Kim was happy to see he was back to his old self, at least for now. "Thanks, KP, I mean it."

"Well, that's what friends are for," she replied, still feeling guilt in her stomach wondering how good of a friend she actually was, as she misjudged his knowledge on Nazis and didn't trust him around Tara alone.

"And you're the best friend a person could ever have," he stated, his smile showing Kim that he truly meant it.

At that moment Kim leaned to her side and hugged Ron, proud of him for being so kind, tolerant, and strong, so much more than Kim had been that day. Her insides exploded with emotions, and she thought things she'd never put words to before. _I love you so much, Ron. You're the best friend anyone could possibly have, not me. And no matter what's going on between you and Tara, I'll be there to support and help you anytime you need it_. Not sure how to express how she truly felt, she just said "Thank you, Ron." He didn't embrace her back, but she knew he must have felt as happy as she did. _This giddiness can't last forever, but I'll never forget this moment for as long as I live._

She let him go and saw him blushing, but still grinning. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before he said anything. "No problem, KP. Anytime." He stalled before his next statement, looking unsure as to whether he wanted to ask it or not.

"What's the sitch, Ron," she asked him, still feeling a giant smile on her face.

"I don't know if it's okay with you, but could we, um, get some breakfast now? I'm feeling really malnourished."

"Oh," Kim uttered, forgetting that he hadn't eaten all morning, lost in the emotions swirling around her mind. "How about this: We can have a big breakfast and do homework afterwards in about 20 minutes. Can you wait that long?" She hated having to ask this, seeing Ron as hungry as he was, but Kim had something she really needed to deal with.

He moaned, but being of good spirit, nodded. "I've waited this long so I think I can hold out a little longer."

Kim grabbed the Kimmunicator and handed it to him. "Here, Ron."

"What's this for," he asked, clueless.

"Well, it's late, or early, depending on how you look at it," Kim admitted, "but I thought you might want to call your parents and tell them what's going on."

Ron took it, but shook his head. "Thanks, KP, but they'd kill me if I woke them up. I might do it later today."

"Okay, cool, I'll be back," she said, standing up and walking toward the door.

"Wait, KP," Ron called, "where are you going?"

"I need to talk to our loving host." Though she kept her voice cool, she could see from his reaction that some of the acidic nature of her emotions escaped.

"Just," he began, looking worried, "try and keep your cool, okay KP?"

"Of course," she replied, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. "You know me, always able to keep my cool." She heard Rufus snicker before she shut the door and her eyes met up with Ron's. "It's okay, trust me."

She shut the door and started walking to the stairway. Whatever way her conversation with Trotzer will go, Kim was sure of one thing: she would not at all be able to keep her cool.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note (Please Read, Some Important Information)**

**First thing's first, and I know it's no fun to read, but Kim Possible is not my property, nor is Rufus, Wade, or Ron. The character Johann Trotzer was, however, created by me. (I've only said that once out of three chapters, which is sad. I feel it's important, but sometimes it slips my mind.)**

**Secondly, a big THANK YOU to those who have read, reviews, followed, or even favorited my story. Being a first time writer, it's great to see even a small amount of people taking an interest in my story, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you.**

**I re-read my first chapter, and I noticed a few mistakes that slipped through my filter, so I intend on fixing them later, which brings me to the point that if anyone notices a big mistake in my story anywhere, please inform me, either via review or messages. I try hard to make a flawless (grammar-wise, anyway) story, so when I see grammar mistakes I miss, I do feel bad about it.**

**Also, this chapter in particular has a chance of taking some liberties in concerns with history. Rest assured, should this occur, it was not intentional.**

**There was a large delay between the third chapter and this one. I don't have a good excuse, other than maybe a few lazy days where I did no writing at all. I apologize deeply for the delay, and I hope it doesn't happen again. On a related topic, and if you are following this story, this is very important: if Chapter Five is NOT up by the 15th of this month, then please read my profile, which will contain an important update. If Chapter Five gets up before the 15th, then the update will be in my Author's Note section for that Chapter.**

**As always, reviews (comments of any kind, be them kind or hate-filled words of prior follies) are welcome. I appreciate reviews highly, but even if you don't leave one, thank you for at least reading. With that, I think I said everything I needed to, so please enjoy Chapter Four.**

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Walking down the stairway to the second floor, Kim was attempting to run the conversation she was about to have with Trotzer through her head and to come up with, should she need them, appropriate agreements and opposing points to give him. _Obviously_, Kim thought, _if he still insists on throwing Ron out without discussion, then we're done_. Though Kim would prefer a short conversation with him (or better yet, no conversation at all), she knew that Ron really thought it was necessary to stay, and though she still had large concerns about helping, Ron's words over right and wrong touched her.

_Ron's amazing_, she honestly thought, completely taken aback by his story about his great aunt. To say Kim wasn't expecting that would be an understatement; the whole incident just blew her away. Ron's never been much of an openly emotional guy (aside from his hysterics every now and again when he blows things out of proportion), but she guessed his 'breakup' with Tara has made him more vulnerable, so he saw no problem in sharing about his experiences with his great aunt (a story she definitely never heard before despite being friends with him since Pre-K). Kim was grateful for this, of course, but she hoped, despite the situation, he wouldn't brood all week, but she knew in her heart that Ron would be able to stay strong.

Stepping onto the stone floor of the entrance hallway, she wondered if she first should have checked Trotzer's room. True, he didn't say where on the second floor it was, but she assumed it wouldn't be terribly difficult to find. Kim almost made her way back upstairs, but then she heard the soft sound of a book shut. If the hallway had been narrower, she probably would have missed it, but as the grand hallway was massive, it created a quiet echo.

_Must be in his living room_, Kim thought, slowly walking toward the arch leading to his location, not at all ready to face or talk to what she considered, albeit dramatic, true evil. _I can't let Ron go without breakfast much longer though, so I need to try to get this over with quickly._ She stepped through the archway and saw Trotzer was sitting in his armchair in front of an extinguished fireplace. There was a dim lighting from candles on the wall, which would probably calm Kim most of the time, but she still felt very tense. Kim coughed in her closed fist, drawing his attention toward her. She felt her heart rate increase as she walked in front of his chair and fell into his full view.

"Miss Possible," he said in a soft voice, "pray tell, what are your plans?" He took a small sip from a cup in his hands, which Kim thought was probably coffee as it was steaming.

"Depends on you," she replied in a calm voice, which was straining but working for the moment.

"What do you mean by that," he asked politely, eyeing her with interest.

Annoyed, Kim replied, "Okay, Trotzer, let's drop this act. We both know what you are so we can stop acting so cordial."

He sighed. "I fully admit I was a Nazi, as I'm sure that is what you are referring to. More so, I do apologize for this morning. It's been so long since I've been in the presence of," he paused for a second, Kim noticed, perhaps to restrain himself from using an offensive term, "a person of Jewish faith. That is why I came in here as soon as you left. This tea," he nodded to the cup in his hands, "has always had a calming effect on me, and it worked perfectly. I lost my temper, and I regret it, and it will not happen again."

"So you admit that your hate of Jews is stupid," Kim asked, ignoring his tea-talk and trying to make leeway.

"No, no, do not put words into my mouth," he replied, waving his hand, "I said I apologize for the way I conducted myself earlier, I did not say I was sorry for disliking Jews. I say this bluntly because, as you suggested, perhaps we should remain candid with each other. My inquiry remains: what do you mean by saying it depends on me?"

Keeping calm, she said, "Because our plans depend on if you're still planning on having Ron leave."

He placed his tea down gently and folded his hands in his lap, frowning slightly. "We do indeed have a problem as far as that is concerned."

"No," Kim corrected him, "you have a problem. Ron and I can be out of here within the next hour if we need to be. I am willing to stay, but only if Ron is allowed to remain also."

"To be perfectly honest, Miss Possible, I am still in the process of considering your proposition. I, of course, would like to remain among the living, but to give up my values for such a petty thing such as life…" he trailed off. "In short, I do not know."

"Then where do we go from here, Trotzer," she asked, growing weary.

"You should sit down and perhaps we can just chat. Could I interest you in some tea," he responded, motioning to a teapot sitting on a coaster and an empty cup next to him on a table.

"No thanks, Trotzer. I'm fine standing," she replied defiantly, not believing he thought they would have a nice chat over tea.

"As to the tea, I say only that it's your loss, but as I am still technically your host, I find it within my realm of proper behavior to request you sit down whilst conversing with me," Trotzer stated, nodding to a perfectly comfortable-looking wooden chair behind her.

Sighing, she sat down, hoping to get back to business and find out if she was even going to be allowed to stay. "What?"

"I was hoping, perhaps foolishly, that we could find some common ground. Even if we can't, I'm sure you have some questions that you would like to ask me, and I know the true stands for vice-versa."

"We have no common ground, Trotzer," Kim bitterly replied, "and as for questions, I don't care to ask you any unless we stay and I find it necessary. Otherwise, I just want to quietly go and forget I was ever here."

"That would be rather unfortunate, I think." He picked up his cup and took another small sip of his drink. "How about I explain my role in the War?"

"I really do not want to hear what you did," she replied, starting to become aggravated with the conversation and found it extraordinarily difficult to contain such annoyance from her voice.

"No, you wouldn't, would you," he muttered, more to himself than to her. Looking down at his knees, he said "Still, I think you may be intrigued."

Kim blew up. "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT WHAT YOU DID IN THE WAR!"

"Because you think you already know, don't you," Trotzer roared back, looking up at her. "You think every single person who wore a swastika on their arm woke up every morning and thought about how many Jews were going to be killed that day. That was not every single person who wore the uniform, Miss Possible!"

"I don't see how that matters, you still hate Jews!" she spat back.

"Yes, I do, and I feel no shame in that. They are inferior and always have been. When I was in the War, I killed maybe only 100 Jews when I operated a gas chamber on one occasion. I am not a monster like some people make out every Nazi member to be."

"Only 100," Kim repeated, disgusted. "Glad you didn't lay waste to more human life."

"Human? What do you know, girl? You weren't living in Germany the time of Hitler's rise, yet you act had you been in the same position, you'd be on a moral pedestal, untouched by all of it," he harshly replied.

"We are _so _not having this discussion. How dare you say I would be supportive or even partake in what you monsters did? The only thing I want to hear from you is this: Are Ron and I staying or going? Answer now, or we're leaving anyway." Her hands were clenched in fists, and despite how old he was, Kim honestly thought that she was close to attacking him.

"Why in God's name do you even want to stay," Trotzer yelled back, red in the face.

"Because unlike you, I have a conscience and care about other people!"

Looking as though he was about to shout back, Trotzer stopped himself. He put his right hand on his head and started rubbing his temples. Sighing, he said "If you still wish to stay, you may stay."

"And Ron," she asked, not forgetting his outburst and admitted self-hatred of Jews.

"It – He," Trotzer amended his statement upon seeing Kim's eyes flash, "is allowed to stay also, out of my kindness."

"Your kindness? Who the hell do you think you're joking? You know very well that if we go, you die," Kim replied acidly.

"I do, and that is why I am letting you stay." His voice took on a cordial-tone again, but it didn't fool the red-head for a second.

"Since I'm staying, I have some conditions for you to follow," she stated. Actually, it was more like a working rough-draft, but then again, with as angry as Kim was, she'd be happy enough to remember even one or two of the rules.

"And these conditions would consist of what," Trotzer asked, looking a combination of mildly amused and interested.

"Don't worry, Trotzer, they're simple," she replied in a condescending tone. "First off, leave Ron alone. Don't talk to him, don't try and offend him, don't even look at him. I want zero contact between you and Ron while we are here."

"Out of interest," Trotzer said, looking at Kim straight in the eyes, "if I do not comply with these requests, what would the result be?"

"Simple: I and Ron leave," she said coldly, fully set in her ways.

He sighed, but just asked "What else?"

"About Jews in general, do not mock them around Ron," she replied, watching him closely with her green eyes. "In fact, even when he's not around, don't talk about Jews in a negative light."

"I don't generally live my life deriding others, Miss Possible," Trotzer stated, looking at Kim's stone-cold face, insulted.

"You really held in your feelings in this morning, I forgot," she sarcastically replied.

"I've already apologized for my knee-jerk reaction this morning and if it makes you feel any more secure, I'll apologize again."

"Whatever," Kim said, dismissing his apology and realizing how immature she sounded.

"What else would you have me do, Miss Possible," he asked, rubbing his head again which brought attention to his hands, which were shaking.

_Do not go easy on him. He is not as weak as he is pretending._ "This one should be obvious: keep providing food for the both of us."

Kim could have sworn he rolled his eyes. "I'm far from a fool. I will continue providing your meals, of course. Cooking is one of the few pleasures I have left, so that should really not concern you."

Though Kim hated to give credit to his words, she admitted to herself that Trotzer was right. Ignoring the comment, she pushed forward. "Stay out of our rooms. No more peeking in to 'make sure we're all right.'"

"For Christ's sake," Trotzer started, sounding incredulous, "you act like I make a habit of doing such actions. I did it once out of genuine concern. I probably couldn't even walk the two flights of stairs again even if I wanted to."

"This one begins after this conversation is finished," Kim continued, ignoring him again, "do not talk to me unless it's necessary, such as mission-related, because I do not want to hear you anymore."

Trotzer looked angered again, but he nodded his head. "Sounds possible."

"You best hope it is," Kim warned. "Lastly, any questions I ask you, I want an honest answer. If I even think that there's a possibility that you're lying, I will leave and feel no guilt," she replied, wracking her brain to see if there were any other things she could add to the list.

"That also, I believe, can be arranged. Naturally, however, I would hope the opposite of such a request applies also," he said, actually having the gall to bow his head toward her.

"You should consider yourself lucky if you come out of this alive." _Because if these assassins don't kill you, I might_ she thought. "Don't make this mission harder for me than it already is."

"Out of courtesy, Miss Possible, I would hope you rethink your reply. Regardless, I thought you said you had no questions you wished to ask me."

"That was before I knew I was staying," she corrected him. "Since I know now, I do have some things that I should probably ask you."

"You have my permission should the answers benefit you," he replied, looking to a grandfather clock to the left side of the fireplace.

_Like I need it_, she thought. "Okay, what do you know about the people threatening to kill you, Mr. Trotzer," she asked, trying to be as cordial and respectful as possible now that she knew there was virtually no getting out of this situation until it was over with.

"Very little, I'm afraid. I know only they claim it cannot be stopped and that they represent the Jewish souls of those I've killed or something like that," he explained, sounding as though the charge of killing Jews was nothing worth concerning himself over.

"That's all," Kim asked, disappointed.

"What did you expect, Miss Possible? You have me at a loss."

"I thought maybe some of your Nazi-buddies might have come in contact with these people and mentioned something to you."

He scoffed at her suggestion. "Do you think I'm foolish enough that, even if I could get in contact with anyone from those days, I would? I had it luckier than most; I got out before der Führer's suicide. Many others scrambled about afterwards, looking anywhere for sanctuary. There was no time to ask others to write down their contact information." He chuckled a little at his words, annoying Kim.

"I'm glad there's some amusement to be found in this for you."

He stopped laughing and sternly replied "I have lived 90 years, Miss Possible, a large majority of those years in fear that one day, someone would find out who I was and what little I did, because no matter how minimal my actions were when compared with others, there are always Jewish sympathizers out there who'd want me torn apart, age be damned."

"And you don't think that fear is justified," Kim asked, seething again.

Looking as though he was about to retort, he waved his hand as if to dismiss the question. "If you want to discuss the philosophy of crime and punishment, we certainly can, but I wish us not to get off track. I believe we were talking of my assassins, yes?"

Unhappy that he ignored her question but knowing he made a fair point about staying on focus, she gave in. "Yes, we were."

"Indeed, I was about to say that even if I had friends that could alert me, it wouldn't be of much assistance, because it sounds like these people are very serious about this. It baffles me anyone ever found out about what I did, as it was so little."

At that moment, another question hit Kim that she didn't prepare; it just sort of popped into her mind. "How did you even find out about me? Unless you have a television in your room or-"

"No, no, I have very few electrical appliances," he said, pouring himself a small amount of tea, "I learned about you from one of the few friends I have. He occasionally follows your exploits and is quite impressed, so relays them to me when we meet."

"So you actually do have a life outside of this castle," she asked, surprised. Immediately afterwards, it struck her how tactless the question was put, and she felt the smallest twinge of guilt possible.

Trotzer took no offense to the wording of the question, however, and nodded. "About twice, three times a month if I'm fortunate enough, I do go out and have a pleasant time with my friends. Basically, that would be the only time I manage to get out because of my age, not that I am particularly unhealthy, but a time comes in your life, if you live long enough, where you eventually find that you are severely limited in what you can do. I don't expect you to understand as a teenager, but maybe if you have a grandparent, you can try and imagine them being overly active."

Kim thought about it and knew that it was obvious that as you grew older, you wouldn't be able to do as much, be it lack of energy or strength. Her Nana could still hold her own in a fight, but she doubted she could do it every single night. She was strong, but everyone had their limits. Turning away from those thoughts, she said "Your food supply, who delivers it?"

Finding what he thought was a non-essential question silly, he chuckled. "Miss Possible, if these are the pressing inquiries you had in mind, I think perhaps you're at a loss when it comes to the important matters."

"I just ask because I thought whoever delivers your food might have given information to these assassins, or possibly even work for them."

He ceased laughing rather quickly after hearing this. He looked rather shocked. "I-I hadn't thought of that, I admit. I just assumed they tracked me here."

"I don't know too much about you, Trotzer, aside from I don't think that's even your real name. I get the impression you came here immediately after escaping Germany."

"I did not escape Germany or desert my brethren," he quickly amended, sounding indignant, "I requested leave from where I was stationed and I got approval. I already realized that the center could not hold at the time. As for Trotzer not being my real name, you're correct, but I've gone by it so long it's as good as."

"The point was," Kim said, cutting through the clutter, "since you came here from Germany, the group wouldn't need 60 years to track you down. I'm thinking somebody found out recently and reported you. Since not many people, I assume, come to this castle, I figure it must be one of them."

Trotzer looked troubled with this suggestion. "I trust everyone whom comes into my home, Miss Possible. Are there any other possibilities," he asked, almost in a pleading voice.

"A few, I guess," Kim replied, shrugging, "but none of them seem particularly likely."

"Humor me," he said, in the most humorless way possible.

"Well, someone you worked with could have spotted you on television if you were ever talked about for being a CEO and told the assassins to make a deal with them." _Talk about flimsy_.

He shook his head. "Not only do I doubt my former acquaintances would be able to identify me, there's also the fact my role in the war so small, so insignificant, I don't see why anyone would even bother with it now."

Kim shrugged, tired of explaining it. "You were still a Nazi; even if you didn't kill any Jews, which you already admitted you did, it's still enough to make some people want to hunt you down."

"It's complete injustice. A lot of us believed what we were doing was right," he stated indignantly.

"Did you, though? I mean, really," Kim asked, exasperated.

"To an extent, yes, but with all respect to Hitler, I thought he was going about it the wrong way. By trying to take over Europe, I knew there was little time before America intervened, and when that happened, I knew there was little chance we would win," he explained.

"When you helped operate the gas chamber, were any official papers kept that someone could have found," she asked, ignoring, for his sake, Trotzer's praise of Hitler.

"There were, of course, papers, with my original name, naturally, but I believe those were all burned before the Allied Forces could capture the camp and stumble upon them. I can honestly say I never expected this to ever come up again in my life," he finished, sounding quite sincere.

Kim hesitated, not wanting to show interest in such a morbid topic, then decided to ask him. "What was your role in the War? I mean, if it's just a misconception that every Nazi hated Jews then-"

"Well, every Nazi _did _rather dislike Jews," Trotzer said, gently cutting her off, "though I suppose there could always have been a few who just worked with us to protect themselves. Also, I do not blame you, Miss Possible, for holding such a misconception. I know very little about the American educational system, but I highly doubt they approach the topic of World War II in a fair and reasoned manner. As for the main question, in the War I was a mere cook."

"A cook," Kim skeptically echoed.

Trotzer simple shrugged. "Think what you what about Nazis, we still had to eat, and since I was 30 at the time, I was a bit older than soldiers on the front line, so I served my country by cooking, which seemed like a fair post to assume."

"And I take it that began your interest in baking once you got out," Kim asked for clarification, oddly intrigued about his long life. _This isn't going to lead anywhere important, I need to stop soon_, she thought in the back of her mind.

He nodded. "Once I got here, I had to lie low, of course, as to not attract attention to myself. Luxembourg had already been liberated, but it was in a chaotic state, so I just came across the border and lived as any other citizen. I started a small business eventually in 1953, selling baked goods and it grew as the years went by. In short, I was very lucky."

"When did you take on the name Trotzer?"

"There's actually a semi-lengthy story involving that in addition to some context should you want to understand completely. Do you care to hear it," he politely inquired, looking happy to be able to finally get these past adventures off his chest after all this time.

"Go ahead," Kim said, sort of interested but also realizing that this could hardly qualify as need-to-know information for her mission.

"Like I said, I came to Luxembourg prior to when most people left. Now, I didn't really need to leave in retrospect, but I did it to feel secure. More-"

"What do you mean you didn't need to go? If the Allied Forces had caught you, you'd be imprisoned, right," she asked, trying to think back to her history classes.

"I don't know that. There were around 53,000 total personnel from the concentration camps, I think, give or take a few thousand. You know how many of those were arrested and tried?"

Not at all sure, but knowing she probably wouldn't like the answer, she shook her head. "How many?"

"Approximately 2,000, according to some sources, so over 50,000 people were never caught. I easily could have been one of those people. I heard a lot of them resumed life in Germany, changing their names, but not moving too far. The big shots, which America really cared about catching, moved to places such as Africa or South America. I didn't feel safe just going back to my old life, so I just decided to go to a nearby country and take on another German name. I thought it'd be perfect camouflage."

Kim nodded, realizing how smart that decision was. _I may hate him, but he's far from stupid, I have to admit._

"Still, I needed some way to identify myself, because without identification, there's precious little one can do aside from live off the land, which was not what I had in mind at all." He shuddered at the thought, making Kim think he was never much of an outdoors type. "I wandered the mountains for a bit, finding myself again, some might say, and I ran across a man my age who had committed suicide for some reason or another. He lived in solitude, but still had all the documents I desired, luckily. We didn't look too alike," he paused for almost 30 seconds, as if trying to recall exactly what this man looked like, "but in the chaotic nature of Luxembourg at the time, it hardly mattered and eventually I got updated documentation with the same name and a picture of me. Since then, I've been Johann Trotzer."

"What is your real name," Kim asked, curious for no reason other than wanting to know.

"That hardly matters anymore," he replied dismissively. "I haven't used it since 1945, and I gave the real Trotzer a small funeral shortly after I found him, so the matter is most literally buried."

"Come on, I said be honest," she said, egging him on for really no reason.

Annoyed, he spoke. "Fine, fine, but I really don't understand why it's necessary for you to know. It's Gottfried Rosenberg. Like I stated, though, I haven't used it in 60 years and I don't even have any emotional connection to it."

Toying with him, Kim playfully replied, "So calling you 'Mr. Rosenberg' is out of the question?"

He gave a mirthless chuckle. "Indeed, I'd prefer you not, Miss Possible. My days of an active Nazi are over."

Switching topics, Kim turned serious again and asked a question that had been on her mind. "Why did you operate a gas chamber if you were just a cook?"

"Oh, that," he said, taken by surprise at the question, "I worked in a camp near Weimar called Ohrdruf. You probably haven't heard of it; it's no Auschwitz. The camp had no gas chambers, but I was called to another location for a few weeks and that camp _did _have a gas chamber. Before I left to go back to Orhdruf, I was made to operate it with a few others. Believe me, it was no joyous occasion for me in the least."

"But you already called Jews inferior, what was your issue with it?"

"Like I said, I believed that Hitler went about it the wrong way. Jews, Gypsies, Communists, they're all inferior, but they shouldn't be killed off. All that accomplishes is riling people against you. From what you think you know about Nazis, you might think with those feelings I would have been in the minority, but you'd be mistaken. A lot of people, from soldiers I came in contact with to other personnel, felt this way, but to speak out against Hitler was, you must understand, akin to suicide."

"So, it was just survival? I have trouble believing that," Kim said critically.

"You know what I would have done with the Jewish problem," Trotzer asked, rhetorically, she assumed, and was proven right when he continued on without waiting for a reply, "have them banished from Germany. That's all. It would have been controversial, but at least it would have been better than besmirching the great name of Germany for the next 100 years." He sighed, and looked to his presumably empty cup. "Miss Possible, I think it's about time for you and your friend had breakfast. I can only imagine how hungry you must be. If you wish, I'll stay out of your way."

_Damn, I forgot Ron was waiting_. "You're right, I should get Ron," Kim replied, quickly standing up from the chair and starting toward the hallway.

"One more thing, please," Trotzer said, holding out his hand to stop her from moving forward.

Kim turned back toward him and saw he wore a look on his face that was hard to distinguish, which worried her, as they were currently getting along okay for the moment. "What is it?"

"I hesitate to tell you this, but I've never been one to deny advice to another." He paused for a few seconds, and then went on. "I don't know the full extent of the relationship between you and your friend, aside from what I assumed earlier, which may have been a mistake. Still, I have a feeling, and you need not confirm or deny this, that you care for your friend more than he realizes." When Kim reacted by blushing and opening her mouth in surprise, he replied, "At my age, sensing attraction is pretty easy. My point is, and this may anger you, that you shouldn't fall under his charm."

"Excuse me," Kim asked, thinking she knew where he was going with this and was already not happy.

"Jews have a way about them," Trotzer stated, his eyes shifting around him as if he believed they were being watched. "They can make someone believe something untrue or do something that that person wouldn't normally do. It's a harrowing danger, so tread with a careful step."

"Trotzer," Kim said coolly, not believing after their polite talk (for the most part, anyways), he would try and 'convert' her, "that was your last. Never again." She walked out of the room, enraged at how the conversation ended, before Trotzer could say anything to stop her.

She picked up her speed and began walking up the stairs, wondering how much time she wasted talking about non-pivotal information. Having no way of finding out, she sighed and hoped that Ron wasn't too annoyed at her for making him wait (not that he would complain in too serious a tone if he was, of course, but his feelings still counted for something). _Why did I ask about his life? That wasn't relevant whatsoever_. The fact was, though, as terrible a man as she thought him to be, it was still interested to see where he came from and how he got there, no matter how much time it wasted.

Crossing the second floor hallway in record speed, she reached the next stairway and bolted up, her concern for Ron growing (for no reason, the logical portion of her brain put forward; people can live weeks without food). Opening his door without knocking, Kim rushed in, causing Ron to lift his head off the pillow he was laying on quickly, probably wondering what the trouble was.

"KP, what's up," he asked, his voice weak. He sat up and rubbed his head. By his side, Rufus slowly opened his eyes and tried to conceal a yawn with his tiny paws.

"Nothing much," Kim replied, careful not to reveal to Ron how much Trotzer infuriated her, "ready for breakfast?"

"About time," he grumbled, shifting his feet off the bed and onto the floor, while Rufus, upon hearing the sacred word breakfast, scrambled into Ron's pocket excitably. "I almost went down myself thinking if you were talking with him, he'd be distracted."

Kim laughed. "Ron, you weren't a prisoner up here. If you wanted food that badly, you could have come down," she said, grabbing his arm and playfully shoving him out of his room.

"Oh," he replied, sounding nervous, "I wasn't sure." Silent for ten seconds, he said, "So, are we staying, KP?"

"Yep," Kim stated, gently closing Ron's door and starting to walk toward the dining room. "Everything's sorted out, so don't worry, he won't be bothering you."

"He wasn't bothering me," Ron replied in a moody tone. "Were you able to keep your cool?"

"Uh," she replied, stalling, "more or less." _As long as Ron didn't hear me shouting at Trotzer from his room, he doesn't need to know the extent of our conversation._

Ron didn't look as though he completely bought her reply, but left it at that. "Learn anything new to help the mission along at all?"

"Not really," she admitted, "just that these assassins will be professional, but we pretty much already knew that. Did you manage to call your parents?"

Ron let out a nervous chuckle. "Calling them at 4 am and disturbing their sleep isn't too great of an idea, KP."

"Well, you are intending on telling them the sitch, right?"

He pulled at his collar, and Kim could already tell what his answer was going to be. "I can tell them I got here okay, but I don't think letting them know the guy we're guarding was a Nazi is a great idea."

"So you're going to lie," Kim said, rolling her eyes and vaguely recalling her own negative experiences when it came to lying.

"Tch," he uttered. "No way, KP, just not tell them everything. I don't think they need to know."

"I already told my mom, Ron, so what if she calls up your mom and talks about it?"

He winched. "Yeah, that wouldn't be good."

Kim rolled her eyes again. "What's the worse they can do? They'd just be worried about you."

"Or they might make me come home because they think I won't be able to deal with it, and I didn't want to leave you here alone," he replied nonchalantly.

Kim felt her face redden. _He always says these strangely romantic things in the weirdest ways_. "Why not, Ron," she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, "worried I can't get my algebra homework done without you?"

"So not," he said, mimicking her, "I just don't know if you'd be able to fight off the assassins as well if I'm not there to lend you moral support."

She scoffed. "When have I ever benefited from your moral support," she joked, not realizing how serious he took it until she saw his face drop. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Ron. I was, you know, joking," she said in a rushed tone of voice.

"Oh, I know," he replied in a way that made it clear he obviously, in fact, did not know. "It's just that," Ron continued, ignoring her gaffe, "if I wasn't here, KP, I'd be worried about you."

Kim's cheeks, which haven't yet returned to their normal state, deepened its shade of red again. "Ron, you know, even if you weren't here, I can still take care of myself." Only after saying it did Kim think that reply was not sufficient to what he needed to hear. In fact, dwelling upon it, her reply made it seem as though he contributed nothing to Team Possible, which was a complete falsity.

"I know, but I'd still be worried." The honesty was etched in his face, and while he didn't sound depressed, he was speaking in a very serious tone.

"Thanks, Ron, that's sweet," she said, looping her arm into his and pulling him closer. "I'll call my mom later and tell her not to talk to your parents about it if you want me to."

"Uh, thanks, KP," he replied, feeling it was awkward, Kim holding him the way she was.

When they reached the ground floor, Kim let him go and Ron slowed down to walk behind her, which Kim took as a sign that he wanted to be 'protected' from Trotzer. Walking forward to the opening leading to the dining room, she gave a swift glance to the living room and saw Trotzer was still there (not that she could see him, per se, but his cane was in plain view). Pulling Ron into the dining room so he couldn't catch on that Trotzer was still downstairs (in Kim's opinion, the less Ron thought of him, the better), to which Ron gave no resistance, being as hungry as he was.

The breakfast food was still on the table despite it being almost noon, and though some of it would naturally be cold, Kim spotted a very nice-looking microwave in the adjoining kitchen, which was a very fancy kitchen in itself. Ron had already grabbed a plate and was stacking pancakes on, adding liberal amounts of butter and syrup. She almost wanted to stop him for fear he'd become diabetic, but as Ron has always had a very quick metabolism, Kim threw the thought from out of her mind and worried no more.

It wasn't until Kim smelled the magnificent aroma of Ron's breakfast that she realized how hungry she actually was. While Rufus was munching on some biscuits, Kim filled her plate with bacon and sausages. _There is a time to watch your cholesterol intake_, she considered to herself, _but having a late breakfast in Luxembourg is not one of them_. Pouring herself a more than modest glass of orange juice, she sat down across from Ron and began eating, finding the savory taste amazing.

Chewing on her bacon, she glanced across the table at Ron and saw he was already through half of his pancakes (which was a considerable amount). As Rufus was now scarfing down scrambled eggs feet away from his owner, she didn't think he had much to do with it.

"Ron," she said, swallowing the food in her mouth before she choked, "you might want to slow down."

"Say what," he replied through a mouthful of pancakes, and when he looked up, syrup was dripping off his chin, causing Kim to recoil in disgust.

"Really, Ron," she coolly said, tossing him a few paper towels, thought about it a little more, and threw him a couple more.

He gulped his food down and dabbed his face with the paper towels, making himself much more presentable. "Sorry, KP, but I was hungry," Ron told her in an ashamed tone.

Though Kim wanted to remain serious so her disapproval of his eating habits would stick, she couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Well, if you eat slower, it will stick with you longer. This food won't disappear overnight, I promise you."

"If you say so, Kim," he replied, and started eating at a much more reasonable (and less animal-like, Kim thought) pace. "After we're done here, we're doing homework, right," he asked after swallowing the smaller amount of food in his mouth.

Kim nodded, not speaking as her teeth were currently ripping a piece of bacon to shreds. She looked down at her plate and saw that she had far too much food for her to finish by herself, despite how good it tasted (and it did taste good), Kim offhandedly asked, once she swallowed, "Want any of my bacon, Ron?"

"Oh, uh," he said, looking at the meat in her fork, "no thanks, KP, I'll just stick with my pancakes, I think."

"They're really crispy," she said in a tempting tone. "If you don't take them, I'm sure Rufus will."

"He can have them," he replied, grabbing a cinnamon roll off a silver saucer to the left of his hand, which Kim hadn't seen before.

Rufus, who was listening to the conversation and was not one to waste time when it came to food, scampered down the table toward Kim and grabbed a piece of bacon off her plate with a joyful expression of his face. "Don't eat too fast, Rufus, you might explode," Kim warned, causing the naked mole rat to look up at her bug-eyed, perhaps wondering if such a terrible fate was possible. She noticed he started eating at a considerably slower pace afterwards.

"Yeah, I was thinking," the red-head started, turning her mind to school-related matters, "world geo and algebra should be our classes of focus today. I'm thinking we should try to knock most of it out so we can have an easier time the rest of the week."

Ron groaned. "As if world literature is easy, KP. We have to write two papers."

"We have to write two half-page summaries, Ron," Kim amended him, his tendency to over-exaggerate annoying her slightly.

"I know, that's what worries me. I didn't read the material we're supposed to summarize," he said, a twinge of guilt in his voice.

Kim rolled her eyes. "Neither have I, we'd be reading it today, I think, if we were in class. They're just short stories, Ron, don't worry."

"Well, if you say so," he replied grumpily, chewing stubbornly on his roll.

"What do you suggest, Ron? Hold back on everything until after we defeat the assassins," she asked with her annoyance clearly in her voice. He looked as though he was going to reply in the affirmative, but quickly decided to change his answer in fear that Kim would scream at him.

"Of course not, I, uh, just thought instead of world geography, we could get the reading and writing out of the way."

"There's writing in geo too," Kim pointed out, "I think we have to explain how the Slave Trade Triangle-thingy was connected with the Caribbean Islands or something."

"Well, yeah, but that's easy, KP," he replied confidently, "a lot of the slaves who were shipped to South America were placed in something they called 'seasoning camps,' where the purpose was to sorta train the slaves to accept their new life working for others. I guess like conditioning a worker but more brutal. Anyways, they-"

"Whoa, slow down," Kim said, a surprised look on her face. "I wasn't writing that down, Ron, so you'll have to repeat it later. I had no idea you were actually listening to anything in class."

He shrugged. "Some things just stick with me. Anyways, you cool with switching geography out for literature?"

Kim, still wowed with his attained knowledge, nodded. "Sure, I guess that'd be fine. You almost done eating?"

He looked to his plate which had two full pancakes intact, considered it for a few seconds, and replied, "Yeah, I'm good, KP. You?"

"Yep. Do we leave the dishes here or take them into the kitchen," she inquired, looking toward the direction of the kitchen.

"You can leave them there," Trotzer said, as he was standing in the archway, and made both Ron and Kim jump. "I'll take care of them, so worry not."

Instantly annoyed that Trotzer decided to show himself, she stood up and motioned Ron to follow her (Rufus already jumped in Ron's pocket as soon as the host spoke) out of the room, and she bypassed Trotzer without comment. Ron, on the other hand, had apparently not understood her full message, for he said "Fantastic breakfast, Mr. Trotzer," in a voice that sounded oblivious to the whole situation they faced. Kim just kept walking and stood by the stairs and waited until her friend caught up.

"What was that," she asked in a harsh whisper as he approached her.

He looked at her confused. "What, KP? I was just complementing him on his solid cooking abilities, what's wrong with that?"

"Ron," Kim started, thinking that she should not have to explain this to him, "just give Trotzer his space, okay?"

He blinked twice, cluelessly, asking, "What, like don't talk to him?"

Kim began walking up the stairway, and he followed, waiting for her reply. "Yeah, Ron, could you not talk to him," she suggested in a gentle voice, thinking that acting passively in this situation would be better than acting aggressive by demanding he absolutely can't talk to him.

"Uh, I guess so," Ron said with uncertainty in his voice, apparently not comprehending her reasons for making such a request of him.

They walked in silence to their rooms and split up when Ron had to go retrieve his notebooks from his bag in his room. Kim was lying on her stomach on her bed flipping through the massive literature book, looking for the correct short story they'd need to read first in order to write the summary.

Hearing a knock on the door, she bent her head down in annoyance. _Does he really find it necessary to knock? We've been separated for maybe a minute_. She sighed, saying "You can come in, Ron."

Ron opened the door, walked into her room, and told her "Rufus thought this might be boring, so decided to stay in my room," while shutting the door.

"Ah, okay," Kim replied, not finding it particularly relevant, though knowing that Rufus was probably going to be correct in his assumption. She noticed he was looking around for a place to sit, so she spoke up. "In order to write the summary, you have to read the story, and I'm sure not reading it to you, so just lay down here," she said, patting the mattress space to her right, causing Ron to waver nervously, but he laid down next to her all the same without comment.

"Have you found the story yet," he asked, eyeing the literature book with a mixture of disdain and contempt.

"Uh, I think so," Kim replied with a small glint of satisfaction in her voice, "here it is."

"How long is it," he asked, probably hoping for a three or four page story at most.

She flipped through the pages containing the story, counting. "15 and a half," Kim concluded.

"They call that a short story," Ron said in disgust.

"Well, let's just read it and get it over with," Kim replied, not at all in the mood for such a mundane activity.

They did so, Kim's mind wandering off every time she finished a page (as Ron read a little slower than Kim did, he was often behind, so this occurred more than a few times). When they did finish, they wrote their respective half-page summaries, which was simple for Kim, as so much was packed into the 15 pages she thought she could have written a two-page summary if required, but provided difficult for Ron, as he mixed up the few characters' names and forgot the correct order of events. After 20 minutes of Kim offering her friend suggestions on improving his paper, both were finally completed to each one's satisfaction. Without speaking, Kim turned to the other story they had to read, and the whole process repeated itself.

This second story, while a few pages shorter than the first (when she pointed this out to Ron as a positive, he snorted "Still 13 pages, KP. These people do not know what 'short story' means"), was harder for Kim to focus on. Behind her eyes, now glazed over with boredom, she was rapidly thinking of everything that's happened on the mission thus far, including learning of Ron's relationship with Tara, finding out Trotzer was a Nazi, and the conversation with said host just hours before. In fact, as hard as she tried, she could not believe that the whole 'bra sitch' happened just that morning, as it seemed, to Kim anyways, light-years earlier. Needless to say, Kim's tips to Ron on fixing up his summary this time around weren't nearly as good, and she even needed to re-read the story just to gauge what happened, as it went through her mind without sticking.

_Stupid story_, she thought to herself, realizing how immature she would have sounded if she said it aloud. _I guess Ron was right in his own way. This is probably a lot more boring than geo is going to be, so getting this out of the way first was actually very smart on his part. We still have algebra, though. Damn it._

Bulldozing their way through over 60 math problems (and not even finishing), Kim felt mentally drained, and from the expression on Ron's face, he felt much the same. He put his head face down on her bed and Kim almost thought he fell asleep until he spoke.

"KP," he said, his voice muffled from the bed-sheets he was speaking through, "can we please be done? We've been working for hours."

Kim looked over to the alarm clock on her nightstand and saw it read 3:20. _Close enough to four hours_, she thought to herself, feeling Ron's pain. "Yeah, Ron, I guess we can stop for the day. What do we still have left?"

"The rest of algebra, uh," he paused, pushing his face off her bed and Kim could see his eyes were closed in fierce concentration, attempting to remember the massive amount of assignments that Barkin assigned them. "World geography, that thing for home ec., uh…" he trailed off, apparently leaving the rest up to Kim.

"Um, the project for personal finance, and… Latin!" she exclaimed, happy to have not forgotten anything (which would have been a disaster).

"Oh, Latin. Great," Ron replied unenthusiastically.

"We'll have to get a lot of it done tomorrow, assuming the assassins don't attack. I don't want to have to go back to school with only a third of the work done," she reasoned, hating herself for saying so.

"Then," he replied, hesitating in apparent aggravation at his words, "maybe we should do more later on today."

Kim looked at his, slightly horrified at the prospect as she already felt as if she had enough work to last the week. "Ron, are you for real?"

"Yeah, KP, I remember what you told me yesterday at your locker, that I need to get all A's in order to pass my classes," he said, sounding as if he truly intended on reaching that goal.

"Well, I'm sure it's not that bad," Kim said, really not wanting to do more work, but, at the same time, recalling Wade's words about the situation and cringed, hoping Ron didn't see her. "We don't need to torture ourselves; we just need to have good initiative."

"That's why we should do a bit more before we go to sleep," Ron said calmly. "Why don't we take a break now, maybe get something to eat, just relax and have fun, then come back to work in three hours or so," he put forward, looking proud for having a plan (_not a terrible one either_, Kim thought) in mind.

"Sure, Ron, sounds good, but count me out of the eating-part. I had enough at breakfast," she replied, giving in and finding the plan acceptable.

"I can go downstairs and eat on my own, right," he asked, his tone a mixture of joking and curiosity.

_Oh, I forgot about that_, she thought, concerned about what Trotzer might say if he caught Ron alone. "Uh, sure, I guess," Kim replied, hesitating, as she was still wondering if she should accompany him or not. _He's not a little kid,_ she finally reasoned,_ he'll be fine._

"Cool, I'll go get Rufus. See you in a few hours, KP," he happily said, rolling off the bed and exiting the room. Hearing the door click, Kim now knew she was alone and could finally relax, not having to work or anything that would be liable to cause her head to ache.

_I should probably call mom, even if she is busy. I don't want Ron to be pulled out of this. What time would it be in Middleton? _Looking toward her clock, she tried to figure it out, but all the algebra shorted out her cognitive abilities, she figured, because it wasn't coming to her. _It doesn't matter, I guess. Wade's sure to know, he'll understand._

She pulled out the Kimmunicator and said, "Hey, Wade."

The boy was sitting in front of his computer, just where he always way (_unless he's sleeping_, Kim thought) and she received a warm smile in return. "Hello, Kim. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," she admitted, "just wanted to talk with my mom. What time is it there?"

"9:25 am," he quickly answered, smirking. "Too worn out to think?"

"Major algebra ish, Wade. So not loving numbers right now," she complained.

"I've never had the problem myself, but I understand your pain," he said, laughing. He subsided after a few seconds, and then asked, in a serious voice, "Anything new with Trotzer? You're staying, right?"

"Yeah, I had a big convo with him earlier, and he's letting us stay, so everything's good," she replied, not really believing it.

"Anything I need to know about," Wade asked, curiously.

"Well, I got a real name," she replied, realizing that she forgot what it was only after she spoke up.

"Oh, that would be useful," he said, his hands already on the keyboard ready to type furiously. "What is it?"

"Um, Gottfried something," Kim said, struggling to remember the full name. "Uh, Rosenberg, I think."

He searched up the name, but didn't surprise Kim when he reported, "I've got nothing, Kim, at least so far."

"Well, he did say he was only a cook in one of the camps," she confessed, "so I guess it might be unlikely there'd be anything on him.

"Do you believe him," he asked, looking at her straight in her eyes (through the screen, of course, but it still had a powerful effect on her).

Thinking hard about everything they discussed and the candidness of which they talked, Kim considered her answer, eventually nodding and replying "Yeah, Wade, I believe him."

Wade sighed, perhaps due to the fact that he had such limited knowledge and control of her situation, which he wasn't used to. "Well, if anything else comes up, contact me."

"Of course," Kim replied. "My mom?"

"You want me to route you to her cell phone, right," he asked, preparing to do so.

"Please and thank you, Wade."

"No problem, talk to you later, Kim," he connected her and she lost her image of him. Smiling, she waited for her mother to pick up.

The ringing of her mother's phone stopped after 20 seconds. "Hello, this is Dr. Possible speaking."

"Mom, it's me, you busy?" Kim heard quick and muted speech on the other end, probably her mother and another surgeon, she thought.

"I should be good for three minutes, but then I should really be in surgery. What is it, Kimmie?"

"It's about my mission. I've decided to stay."

"I'm glad to hear that, Kimmie. I had a feeling you would persevere through this. How's Ron," she asked, concerned.

"He's okay with it. Really," Kim emphasized, as she heard her mother sigh on the other end. "Have you told his parents about the bump in our mission, by any chance," she asked, attempting to word her question carefully.

"No," Dr. Possible replied, sounding as though the question was out of place, "I haven't been in contact with them since you called this morning. Why do you ask?"

"Um, well, Ron doesn't really want his parents to know he's here with a former Nazi," Kim blatantly stated, though quickly, as if she hoped to partially obscure the message from her mother.

"Kimmie, what are you saying? That if asked, I should lie to them," she asked in a disapproving voice. "I won't do that," her mother sternly said.

"No, if they ask, you can tell them, but just don't tell them outright if they don't mention it," Kim replied, understanding that some concessions would have to be made.

"Why, though? Don't they have every right to know their son might be in potential danger, or at least in a very uncomfortable position, Kimmie," her mother asked, trying to use an emotional argument on her daughter.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, frustrated, "but Ron is worried that maybe if his parents found out, they might make him go home."

"Again, the point remains," her mother said, "don't his parents have that right? I mean, if I-"

Kim cut her off. "I don't want to be here alone, mom," she yelled, confessing her fear, trying to make her mother realize this. "I need Ron with me."

There was silence on the other end for ten seconds, and then her mother spoke, her voice softened. "I understand, Kimmie, but if they ask head-on, I won't lie to them."

"Okay, thanks, mom," Kim said, releasing a sigh of relief.

"Kim, I'm doing this because I truly believe you'll keep him safe at all costs, so make sure to," Dr. Possible replied, sounding firm but still slightly on edge, which was reasonable, Kim thought.

"I will, believe me." She beamed, proud so much trust was placed on her. "How's dad doing," she asked conversationally.

"Well, he wanted to make sure you were getting your homework done and aside from that, he's fine. Actually-" Kim heard a loud bang on the other end of the line. "I have to go now, honey, but I'll talk to you later," she said in a rushed tone. "Stay safe. Love you. Bye."

Her mother hung up before Kim could return the statement, saddening her slightly, but decided that whatever the reason for the sudden departure, it must be important. Feeling worn out and knowing she'd have to do more homework later, she laid back and placed her head on one of the soft pillows. Meaning to just rest for a little to regain her strength, she dozed off within three minutes, eventually falling fully asleep.

* * *

A knock on the door stirred her. Groggily lifting her eyelids, she tried to get a bearing on the time. The clock read, to her surprise, as she could have sworn she was asleep for no longer than 20 minutes, 6:45 pm. Shaking her head slowly, not believing she allowed herself to remain asleep for so long, Kim sat up, rubbing her eyes. Another rapt of knuckles hitting the door caused her to speak up.

"Come in," she said, her voice sounding much like her head felt, that being distant.

The door opened and Ron walked in, carrying his notebooks and, for some reason, Kim's textbooks, looking uncomfortable under all the weight. "Hey there, sleepy head," he called to her, smiling a goofy smile despite his arms, which were clearly strained.

"Ron," she yawned, not even trying to conceal it, "what's the sitch?"

"Well, I thought it's about time I got you up, because I didn't think you'd want your sleeping schedule to be messed up too badly." He shut the door after putting the books down, and Kim saw Rufus crawl out of his pocket and stretch his tiny arms, making it appear that he also just awoke from a nap.

"Thanks, Ron," she replied, happy he kept that thought in mind. "Time for more h-work," Kim asked, not feeling mentally awake enough but knowing it had to be close.

"Actually, I already did some while you were sleeping, KP," Ron said as he sat down next to her on the bed.

This statement made little sense to Kim. _Well, I guess it makes sense, but not with Ron saying it. He needs my help to do the simplest algebra problem, what could he possibly do himself besides home ec.? _"What," she asked stupidly.

"It happened like this," he explained, "once I was done eating, I came up here to, you known, talk with you, but I saw you were sleeping, so I got bored. I thought about it a little and decided maybe I could do some of the homework myself without bothering you, so I grabbed some of your books and did."

Skeptically, she asked "What did you manage to do?" _I can't imagine it'd be much_, she thought to herself, feeling slightly guilty doing so, though knowing she honestly felt this way, _considering Ron's… Ron._

"Personal finance, world geography, and some Latin," Ron rattled off. He looked guilty himself while adding "I couldn't do anymore algebra, KP. I tried, but that stuff is just too difficult for me to do without you helping."

Kim was in shock. _If what he said is correct_, she considered, _he's almost completely done with the homework that we were assigned._

"KP, you okay," he voice asked, concerned as she was just sitting there, and Kim noticed Rufus was waving his paws in front of her face in hopes of gaining her attention.

"Uh, yeah, I- wow, Ron, you really got all of that stuff done?"

He nodded. "This way, the work shouldn't be too hard for you. You can double-check my work so you don't need to hurt your brain doing everything yourself like for literature."

A smile broke out on Kim's face. Though she wasn't a proponent of cheating (_and definition-wise_, she admitted to herself, _this comes close_) but the fact he tried to lighten her load and make it easier for her was very sweet. "Thanks, Ron, that's so cool. Surprising," she joked, "but cool."

Not commenting on the complement, he replied, "I thought we could finish algebra now and then maybe you could look at my finance project. It's not difficult, so it should be a cinch for you."

"Okay, sure," she replied, not excited about having to look at more numbers so soon, but more than ecstatic that Ron showed signs of academic ambition. Before she opened the math textbook to resume their romp into the kingdom of algebra, she informed Ron, "Oh, I talked to my mom and everything's good; she won't tell your parents."

"Badical," Ron said, his smile growing because he knew there was virtually no way now that he'd be forced to go home and leave the mission. "Thanks, KP."

"Anything for my Ron," she joked in a sing-song voice, though feeling a little dizzy and light-headed after she realized that her words implied Ron was one of her possessions. _Concentrate, Kim, and get this done._

They worked for two hours, more or less, completing their algebra, and then Kim checked over Ron's finance project, which was, as he had told her, pretty simple to begin with. This round of doing homework was nowhere near as bad or boring as the first one because Kim needed only to explain very little to Ron, and more so, Rufus being there had a calming and easy-going effect on both of them, which made Kim not stress out as much as she believed she usually would have.

Kim wrote her last necessary value on the finance project result paper and put it away, happy to have that piece of homework checked off. She saw the time was nearing 9 pm, and decided it was time for dinner, as she was beginning to feel really hungry anyhow. Naturally, both Ron and his pet agreed and then went downstairs looking at their various choices on the table within 20 minutes of her speaking her suggestion.

The elongated table had candles on it, casting shadows throughout the giant room, but giving it an almost romantic feeling to it. They ate (Kim some pork, and Ron some tacos he and Rufus found) mostly in silence, both allowing the long day to dawn on them, and finding this quiet time quite peaceful.

_It's unreal_, Kim thought, _but it's just been one day. The nap I took really screwed me up despite Ron waking me when he did. I hope I can get to sleep tonight_. She was pretty sure she'd be able to, however, as even then, at the table, she felt her eyes drooping, and Ron, from across the said table, who hadn't been asleep at all that day, wore a similar expression of weariness on his face.

After they were finished eating, they made their way back upstairs, but not before Kim wondered to herself where Trotzer was. _Perhaps I shouldn't have told him to only talk to me if something important came up. I can't keep tabs on him if I don't know where he is, and I can't guard him like this either. I guess I'll talk to him about it tomorrow._

Reaching the third floor, Kim audibly yawned. She opened her door and asked "You coming, Ron," when he wasn't moving with her.

He started moving towards her but then faltered. "Nah, I sorta thought maybe I should sleep in my own room tonight, KP."

Confused, she inquired "Why?"

"Well, you know," he replied, not making eye contact with her, "sorta less awkweird, I thought. You could take a shower in peace, for one." He said that last part in a joking tone, but his cheeks lit up just the same.

"Ron, you know I don't mind if you sleep in my room. Really, I'm okay with it," Kim said, thinking to herself _especially after today's events._

"No, really, KP, it's fine. I'm good in my room. I still have Rufus to protect me." Rufus, unfortunately, couldn't show his support, as he was snoring in Ron's pocket at the time.

Too tired to want to argue, Kim sighed. "Fine, Ron," she said before he could go into his room, "but if you need anything, you can come wake me up. I won't get angry, I swear."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," Ron replied, looking up at her and smiling.

Kim stepped up to him and pulled him into a hug for the second time that day. "Goodnight, Ron," she whispered in his ear. Though it was dark in the hallway, Kim thought she could feel the heat radiating off Ron's face as he blushed. Not concerned with his embarrassment, she held him for ten seconds longer before she let him go.

"Um, sure, KP, you too," he awkwardly replied, while rubbing the back of his neck. "Goodnight."

He disappeared in his room and Kim did the same, not even bothering to change into her pajamas or take a shower. She simply slipped her bra off through the sleeve of her shirt and jumped into bed, allowing the darkness and quietness to swallow her, and within minutes, it had, and she was asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**Obviously it's been almost a month since I last updated this story, but I made a promise on my profile to not go longer than a month between updating my stories, and I'm not one to go back on a promise. I still don't have an internet connection on my desktop, but I'm working on setting it up, so let's all be hopeful it can be successful. **

**After reading, a review is always nice to read, but is of course not necessary. However, if you want to praise me or claim hatred, a review is a good way to do so. Even if you want to point out an error(s), then you can do so in a review (or just PM me; I love reading PMs). Either way, whatever your path me be, thank you for reading.**

**Another shout-out for people who've reviewed, followed, or favorited my story: You're all great and make me feeling like I'm not wasting my time in writing this.**

**This chapter is a bit longer than the other ones, but I foresee the next chapter being much shorted, so it balances everything out, so no worries. Also, I use a fake word later in this chapter, that being "jestive" (a combination of jest and festive), but as Shakespeare created words, I see no problem with my doing so. Anyhow, I like the sound of the word "jestive," so I feel no shame. Quite a bit, plot-wise, occurs in this chapter, so hopefully it'll mostly be accepted. Most of this was on my outline for the story, so it was long ago planned out.**

**Of course, ****Kim Possible and related characters are not owned by me, but by Disney.**

**Important to note, I found some small to medium errors in former chapters, and I will update those at a later date to fix what I messed up on the first time around. Like I said prior, I really do try to watch out for any errors, be them grammatically to story-related. If anyone sees an error in any chapter of any of my stories, inform me, and it will be fixed or at least addressed.**

******I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but as my promise states, it will be before or on October the 2nd, so don't become too anxious.**

******Not sure what else I might need to say, so I'll end by saying it's nice to be publishing again, and my other story ideas (which are listed on my profile) along with Crash, will all be worked on within this upcoming month. Hope everyone reading is well, and without more delay, may I introduce chapter five of Hate.**

**Enjoy and Review.**

* * *

Kim woke up frenzied, her heart racing. _My mother! Shego abducted her and_… She glanced around and saw that she was in a dark, fancy-looking room, not tied up in Drakken's closet. _Duh, it was a dream_, she thought to herself, feeling foolish. She eased back down into her bed, yawning, and turned over on her side to read the clock. _8 am. I guess I should get up_, she thought saddened, but then reasoned, _it's Wednesday, so the assassins might attack, in which case I need to be ready_.

Slowly sitting up, Kim lightly rubbed her eyes, noticing it was a cloudy morning when looking out her window. _I can give Ron another hour, I guess. It's not like he's vital to protecting Trotzer or anything. _Of course, Kim knew she wasn't exactly correct; any number of situations could arise that would benefit from Ron's being there. She did not at all believe in the 'Ron Factor,' but there was _something _about his presence that helped her out occasionally. Kim had an odd feeling that if, for some reason, he couldn't come on missions with her, she wouldn't fare as well as she usually would, not that she was eager at all to test the theory.

She looked down at her wrinkled, slept-in shirt. _I really should have taken time to change last night, but there's no reason to mope about it now._ Jumping off her bed, she made her way over to her suitcase (she still hadn't unpacked, and, by this point, Kim wondered to herself if she ever would) and picked out her clothes for the day, making sure she possessed every single article she needed before entering the bathroom.

Kim showered relatively quickly, feeling much more clear-headed when she stepped over the rim of the tub. The steam on the mirror, from the hot water, blurred her reflection, but that wouldn't matter until she brushed her teeth, which wasn't until after she dressed. Quickly drying her body off, she glanced to the basket of damp towels and her clothes from yesterday, a frown forming on her face. Trotzer most likely had a laundry room _somewhere_ in this giant house, but the idea of maneuvering three floors with a basket, even a light one, did not at all appeal to her, so Kim intended on just stuffing her used clothes into her duffle bag and washing them as soon as she got home. The towels were, of course, Trotzer's property, so she was going to ask him about what to do with them sometime, perhaps that morning when Ron was eating breakfast.

As to not allow her clothing to get too much more damp from the moist towels, she grabbed her clothes out of the basket and placed them on a bare spot next to the sink. Getting dressed, she wondered what this day would hold, though Kim realized that whatever happened, it couldn't be anywhere near chaotic as the day prior, or at least she hoped not. She grabbed her toothbrush, applied a liberal amount of toothpaste, and brushed her teeth using the steamed, but reflecting, mirror. Her damp hair was getting her newly adorned shirt wet around the collar, but it would dry before too long, and as such, it didn't concern Kim.

Feeling refreshed, she grabbed her clothing and opened the door, making sure to switch the lights off. She opened her duffle bag and was about to stuff her clothes inside when she felt something in one of the pockets of something she wore a few days before. Intrigued, she pulled out a piece of folded paper, and then it dawned on her.

_Ron's note! It slipped my mind. I can't believe it_. Forcing her clothes in the bag and not bothering to zipper it shut, she held the piece of paper in her right hand and dived onto her bed, turning over to lie on her stomach so her hair wouldn't get the pillowcase damp (though, by this point, her hair was mostly dry anyhow - Kim didn't realize it). Looking down at the note, she wondered whether or not she should even open it.

_Okay, if Ron found a note someone wrote me,_ she began, attempting to think it through,_ I would so not be okay with him looking at it. It shows a lack of trust, almost, to want to read this. The fact of the matter is, though, I'm curious. I know Ron's been down and he sort of explained why, but if he left something out, and if this paper says something I don't know, maybe I'll be able to help him out more. But what if it says something I shouldn't read, like maybe Tara and him…_

She, at that moment, violently shook her head. _I have got to trust Ron more than that. There's no way Tara and him did that. But… _Kim looked piercingly at the note, _there is always a chance. Reading this might clear my conscience of that and prove that nothing happened_, she reasoned. _Then again, it might prove something DID happen, and if that's true, I really don't want to know. Or do I?_

Deeply irritated, Kim slammed her head into the pillow in front of her. _It should not be this hard! Just read the note, maybe it's not even anything important. _She didn't quite believe that, though; ever since she first saw the piece of paper, Kim was sure it was a note, and more specifically, it was from Tara. Kim had absolutely no idea what the note might contain, but knew it might answer some of her questions when it came to Ron's moodiness recently.

_If I give him time, he might tell me anyways, so I don't even have to read the note_, Kim optimistically thought. _He's just enough of an introvert, though, that maybe he wouldn't. Even if he did, he might leave something out because he's not comfortable talking about it with me. Augh._ Sighing, she thought to herself, _just read it and get it over with before he wakes up. If he catches me with it, I'd have no way to explain myself. I guess he did say yesterday he wanted to 'come clean,' but I blew him off because I didn't want to hear about it. Maybe this is an easier way to learn about what went on._

Deciding to read it before Ron woke up, which was the most crucial motivation she had in the mess of her thoughts, she slowly unfolded the paper, her stomach flipping with each cease being flattened out. _I feel sick_, Kim admitted to herself, _but maybe it won't be that bad. _She looked at the paper. The handwriting was tiny and precise, and Kim knew that handwriting, and more so, it confirmed her theory: it was Tara's. The note was long, but the last thought Kim had before she dived into what was not at all her business was _if it ends up helping Ron in some way, then it'll be totally worth it._

_Ron, I have so much to say, please read this._

_You haven't spoken to me in almost a week. I miss you. I know last Saturday was awkward and I'm very sorry about that. I didn't mean to put you in that kind of position, you have to realize that. I wasn't exactly comfortable myself, but at least your jersey was soft (haha). Thank you for playing it cool, though, and not acting like every other guy would act like and try to take advantage of me in that situation. It's one of the reasons I love you so much. You're so kind and funny, but you can be serious and modest when you need to be. It's a fantastic combination, Ron. You really are that great._

_About dinner Thursday- I'm so sorry, Ron. I didn't think that it would matter, even if it came up. I guess maybe I was naïve or just plain stupid. My father's a good man, but he's completely wrong in this case; it does not make any difference whatsoever that you're Jewish. I never cared and it never bothered me. As bad as this may sound, you being Jewish, but the Bible says we shouldn't judge anyone and that only God can do that. My father disregarded that when he was yelling at you for being Jewish. I know you probably think that my relationship with my father is more important than my relationship with you (why else would you be ignoring me?), but you're mistaken. My dad was wrong to yell at you like that, especially how he kept you there for 20 minutes and wouldn't let you leave so you could just avoid it. I was so mad at him after you left. That fight Friday, both he and I shouted so much, but that doesn't matter now because I love you._

_I know you saw that bruise on my arm that morning, Ron. I saw how you reacted, but you have to understand that my father loves me so much, and he truly believes what he said, so he thought he needed to punish me. Don't be angry at him for how he disciplines me though, please; be mad at him for being a hypocrite. I know that we didn't talk about this at all, but we can't pretend it never happened, no matter how much we both wish that it hadn't. He forbade me to continue seeing you, but I refuse to obey him. Don't be intimidated by him, Ron; don't break up with me just because he believes what he does. I choose you over him, so please, give this relationship another chance._

_If you still want to, we can tell other people about us now. I know you hate hiding it from Kim and I hate hiding it from Bonnie and her friends too, but I truly believed Bonnie could be convinced you're a good person. I don't understand why she seems to dislike you so much, but I'm sure if she knew we were dating, she'd treat you better. It's not like Bonnie can prevent you from being our Mad Dog, Ron, so really, it doesn't even matter what she thinks about us, so forget her. Kim might be mad at first, but you've been her best friend since Pre-K (you've told me so many times, it's just stuck with me) so she'll be fine with it, because best friends support each other. You wanted to tell her to begin with, so she shouldn't really even be mad at you, but I know how girls' brains work, and Kim also has a fiery personality (no offense intended), which doesn't help you out._

_I've been worried she might have somehow found out about us because she's been yelling at me more than usual at Practice, and I don't think it's just because I'm messing up (though, to be honest, I am screwing up more, but that's because I've been thinking about you and not about when to jump). Kim's your best friend, and as vain as this sounds (please don't think I'm mean), I'm happy she never saw you the way I do. I know that if she liked you like I do, there'd be no competition. I'm nowhere near as beautiful or smart as Kim is, and I think you'd date her instantly if she ever asked (not that I think you like her, but she's your best friend and you'd want to make her happy), but she never has and you'll never understand how grateful I am for that._

_I'm not trying to, as you would phrase it, 'knock' Kim; she's a great person and gave you a chance when no one else would. I'm guilty of not giving you a chance, too. When I first saw you, I believed Bonnie was right, that you were a loser, but then eventually, before I even cognitively (I think that's the word) thought about it, I had a crush on you. I spoke to you just over a month ago, and you said you felt the same about me. When you said that, my heart exploded in joy. This is serious, though, and important. Even if my father, Bonnie, and Kim (not that I ever believe she would, of course; she's too good a person to judge us) all disapprove of our relationship, I wouldn't care as long as I had you. I can't explain in words why I like you so much, I just do. If I'm shunned by Bonnie, fine. If Kim kicks me off the squad, okay. If my father throws me out of the house (not that I believe he ever would), so be it. If I still had you, it would be worth it._

_If you want to stop being with me, I guess I understand, but it wouldn't be fair to me. Maybe my father can never respect you, but __I DO NOT CARE__. I love you, Ron. Really. Please stop ignoring me; we need to talk so badly. Not only do I miss you, but I miss Rufus. He's a great, loyal pet, and it fun to play with. Both him and you are the most badical guys I know, so please, Ron._

_Love always and forever,_

_Tara_

Kim's mind, needless to say, was in overload. She literally could not focus on one single thought for almost three minutes. _Okay, okay, okay_, she frantically thought, trying to shift through the massive amount of information the letter (Kim already decided halfway through it was too long and serious to be called a simple 'note'), _take it one step at a time._

Moving her eyes to the beginning, ignoring her quickly beating heart, she read the whole thing again at a slower pace, attempting to gain the right context and understand every reference. _When was this written? Ron's been down for more than a week and he already didn't talk to Tara a week before she wrote this. Stupid timeline, I can't comprehend it! 'Kay, when did Tara first talk to Ron about her feelings? Damn it, only Ron and Tara would know that. Wait, no, that's not right; Rufus would know too. Should I talk to him? Nah, I can't do that. _Scanning the paper for a third time, Kim decided to give up figuring out everything.

_Three things are clear, though: Tara really likes Ron, her father has a problem with him being Jewish (Ironic much?), and Ron never wanted to hide the relationship from me. Also_, Kim thought, re-reading the third paragraph, _did Tara allude to the fact that her father actually physically beats her?_ She wasn't sure, but one thing was certain: if this letter is the true and full image of what's been going on with Ron, Kim had no choice but to speak up, even if she had to admit to stealing the letter.

_Even when I was crushing on Josh, and even had the occasional date with him, I never once thought loved him, did I? _Kim pondered this, unsure, knowing she was infatuated for a short time, but she doubted it reached the level of love. Tara, on the other hand, seemed to be there, and from the way Ron's reacting to this, maybe he's there too. Kim gulped, feeling a strong wave of emotions rush through her body. She felt the urge to regurgitate, but swallowed once more and felt okay again. Of course, this would be true if 'okay' were redefined to mean 'feeling terrible,' which was how she truly felt.

_How can I protect Trotzer now_, Kim thought, feeling herself shivering. _If I'm an emotional wreck, I'm no use to anyone here. I have got to keep it together until after the mission. Then what? Break down on the ride home? _She wiped her watery eyes, finding it difficult to force her mind away from what she just got done reading. Standing up, she grabbed the paper, carefully folding it up, which, as both hands were shaking and clenched into fists, was a difficult task. With a forcefully blank mind, Kim opened her door with the intention of returning the letter to its correct location, preferably without waking Ron or Rufus, because she was so not in the mood to have to try to explain herself.

Creeping across the hallway, she grasped his doorknob and slowly edged it open, ready to leap back if she heard any loud creaks. Luckily for her, no such sound was emitted, and before she knew it, she was standing in Ron's room. Though it was light outside at this point of the day, Ron had covered the window with a very heavy-looking purple curtain, causing a shroud of darkness to fill the room. She didn't spot his suitcase by his dresser or bed, so she assumed it had to be in the closet, causing her to think _Damn it, another door._ Walking on her toes, Kim made her way to the closet and was happy to see that the door was ajar already. Kim opened the door, whipping her head to look over her shoulders to check if either Ron or Rufus stirred, which they didn't. _All good so far._

Managing to open the correct pouch and place the letter back in without creating any significantly loud noise, she wiped a buildup of perspiration from her brow, happy to already have knowledge in ways to work quietly. Stepping out of the closet, she moved the door back into its original position. Trying now to quietly sneak out of a perfectly successful 'mission,' Kim stubbed her toe on one of the legs of the dresser. Thinking quickly, while she let out a loud yelp (a mixture of both surprise and pain), she dived for a chair nearby and sat down, grabbing some nearby book and hoping, to Ron, it'd appear at the moment that she was reading it.

Kim heard the bed frame creak as Ron sat up. "Who's there," he timidly asked.

Trying to play it cool, she replied, "It's me, Ron, who else would you be expecting?"

"KP?" He switched the lamp next to him on, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness he faced, then squinted at her. "What are you doing in here?"

"Uh, reading," Kim replied, giving one of the most genuine smiles she could muster, while nodding to whatever book was open in her hands.

"In the dark," he asked, confused.

Her smile faltered noticeably. _Should have thought this one through a little more_ came a voice in her head. "Um, yeah, uh," she replied nervously, stumbling on her words and trying to think of something, "I was using, uh, my Kimmunicator to, you know, see. That's why I yelled," she continued, feeling an inspiration now, and picking up the device to show Ron she did indeed have it, "because it went out for a few seconds and I thought something happened." _Well, lame finish, but it should do the trick_, she thought to herself, satisfied.

Ron, however, still looked puzzled. "And why exactly are you reading my father's Chumash?"

Abandoning her former hope, she desperately thought to herself, _This has so many holes in it. I have to think of something to get me out of it. Should I just tell him the truth, maybe? _Really not wanting to admit she read the letter, she said the first thing that came to her mind, which, given the circumstances, surprised Kim. "Ron, what's it like being Jewish? I mean, obviously, Trotzer doesn't like you, but what are the, uh, pros about it?" Though that question came out of her mind in the spur of the moment, it was actually relevant to the problems in his life, Kim thought, wondering if the offhand manner in which she asked would distract Ron from the many flaws in her story.

It seemed to work, as Ron appeared completely taken aback. "Wha-what, KP?"

_No choice but to go along with it now_, she grimly thought, saddened slightly that she had to divert Ron away from the truth. "I asked what it's like being Jewish. I'm just curious," she repeated, trying to make it sound like an innocent question.

"I don't really know how to answer that question, Kim," Ron replied, shifting his body so his head could rest more comfortably on the backboard.

"Well, what do you believe that other people don't," she asked conversationally, now focusing her full attention on the questions she was asked and not on her folly-filled story she gave him earlier.

"I don't really feel comfortable talking about this," he said, the look of confusion on his face gone, but replaced with a look that Kim couldn't quite place. _Worried distrust, maybe?_

"Come on, why," Kim asked, now actually interested.

"Because I don't want to," he stubbornly replied, sounding as though he were pouting.

"Ron," Kim began, not believing such a simple request would warrant so much delay and resistance, "why?"

"Because," he started, hesitating for almost ten second before continuing, "I was taught by my parents to not talk about my religion with those outside of it. I think it's 'cause we're historically mistreated, but I'm not sure."

"That's stupid," Kim concluded. "I'm asking you. I've been your best friend since Pre-K. I'm not really seeing the ish."

"I don't want to tell you what to believe," he replied, shrugging. "Friends don't try to force their beliefs on each other."

"You're not forcing anything; I'm asking," Kim pointed out. "The truth of the matter is, I would rather ask you, a friend, than read this giant book." The joke made Ron smile, which was, of course, Kim's intention all along, thinking he'd might not feel as awkward now as he has been.

"Well, it's hard to explain, KP, unless you have a basic knowledge of Christianity," he admitted.

Kim, who wasn't raised religious at all, didn't quite have a full basic knowledge, but knew the very broad points. "Uh, sure, Jesus was the son of God, people hated him, and he was crucified."

Ron put his head in his hands, making Kim feel really foolish. Before she could retort to his actions, he replied, "Oh, uh, sort of, you know, in a very, very broad sense." Looking up, he continued on, sounding pretty professional to Kim. "We don't believe that Jesus was the son of God. Some types of Christians don't generally find that to their approval."

"Yeah, but what does that matter," Kim asked, mystified. "So maybe he was the son of God and maybe he wasn't. It's such a small thing, what's the point?"

"Kim," he said, looking shocked, "that's, like, the biggest difference between Jews and Christians. It matters."

"Okay, chill, fine," Kim replied, annoyed, "but I still don't understand the significance."

"This is hard," he started to say, his voice low, and Kim thought he was speaking to himself more so than to her, "it's like trying to teach trigonometry to somebody who doesn't even know what math is."

"You don't know trig either," she pointed out, doubting he ever would if he couldn't master simple algebra.

He snorted. "Not the point here, KP."

"Fine," Kim said, irritated, "ignore Jesus, what else do you believe?"

"Well," he continued, looking slightly put off, "basically, we believe in God, some of us believe in Heaven, doing good-"

"_Some_, Ron," she asked, cutting him off.

"There are lots of types of Jews, KP," he explained, clarifying if for her, "and some of us believe in Heaven and some of us don't."

"Oh, okay, I'm talking about you specifically, though."

"Okay than, yeah, my family believes in Heaven," he replied, sounding as though he was admitting his guilt in a crime.

"Cool, how am I doing in making sure I'm getting there," Kim joked, a small smirk on her lips, which was apparently not the correct thing to do.

"KP, come on. A little respect, please," Ron whined, clearly bothered.

"Oh, yeah, sorry Ron," she said, forgetting how seriously he took all of this stuff.

"It's okay. Anyways, you're not doing too badly. If one does a lot of good deeds, they're almost guaranteed a spot in Heaven," he replied, quickly adding, "according to us, anyways."

"Why even be Jewish, Ron," Kim asked curiously, though it wasn't exactly a sequitur question. "What's wrong with Christianity, for example?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, I'm just not. I am Jewish, and I'm proud that I am," Ron said, staring right into her eyes, stating his words with complete seriousness.

"Why so proud," she inquired, not an ounce of sarcasm in her voice. She was genuinely curious, as she never really saw Ron as a Jew, she just saw him as a friend. His religion never once really crossed her mind aside from when she was young and asked why he didn't celebrate Christmas.

"Because," he paused, looking as if he was trying to find the right words to express his thoughts, "I will always have a place to belong. I'm a part of something, Kim, that's too big to fully comprehend or grasp. Almost every Jew I know was affected by the Holocaust in some way, so we all have a common background and ancestry. My parents were Jewish, and their parents were Jewish, and I'm Jewish." Looking embarrassed but maintaining eye contact, he continued. "I hope if and when I have children, they can be Jewish too. It comforts me through my worst times, and says 'You can do better' during my best times. It's a part of me, a part I cherish. Like, saying I'm Jewish is like saying the sky is blue. It's a fact. It's who I am."

While Kim was listening to Ron's explanation, she inwardly thought about herself, and more particularly, what she believed. Her parents never mentioned the idea of God. Never once. At all. She's never given much thought to it (beyond thinking once or twice there must be some kind of God) because it so rarely came up in her life, but if Ron can be healed or comforted by being Jewish, maybe there was something to it. These thoughts, mixed with the still fresh words of Tara's note, made Kim's head feel heavy, but she's always been one to persevere through the hardships she faced, so she had no intention of letting all of this phase her.

"So," Kim was unsure of what an appropriate reply would be, so stalled. "I never knew it meant so much to you, Ron."

He shrugged, replying "I never thought it seemed important to you. You know, like it wasn't relevant or something."

"Um, well," she began, feeling the seriousness of the conversation starting to make her feel uncomfortable, and leading to the possibility that it might somehow lapse into Kim bringing up Tara (or Ron, for that matter; from what Kim could tell, the whole reason Ron brought the Jewish book was because he needed re-confirmation of his beliefs after his argument with Tara's father), Kim decided to make light of the whole discussion by saying, "what's it like knowing after you die, you get to hang in Heaven forever?"

"If you're not religious, you wouldn't understand," he replied harshly, not understanding she meant it as a joke (_not that if he did, it would really help matters much_, she thought), then, realizing the tone in which he said it, blushed and tried to amend his statement. "Not that it matters if you're not religious, of course. I didn't mean that. I wasn't trying to knock you or anything," he finished awkwardly, rubbing his neck and not looking at her.

"Oh, uh, no problem, Ron, it's fine," Kim said, feeling as though in some way he meant that in an insulting way, though as it was out of her control on whether or not she was religious, it wouldn't have been a fair insult. _It's not my fault my parents didn't raise me religiously. _For the second time in the last five minutes, she asked herself _Why didn't they? Do they not believe in God? _Though Kim was far from being religious, the idea of God still made sense to her, if for nothing else, a practical reason: the world seemed a bit too complex to be random. It wasn't something she learned in school or her parents told her (obviously), it just occurred to her on her observations of the Earth. By traveling a lot, like she did, sometimes it was easier to gain the big picture compared to people who have stayed in one place stationary for their whole lives.

In short, Kim thought she believed in God, but as to what religion she was or the thought of an afterlife, she was clueless. _I so have to talk to my parents about this_, she thought, making a note in her mind so she wouldn't forget.

"KP, what's up," Ron asked after 30 seconds of silence. Kim supposed her thoughts had been distracting her, which was reasonable, she told herself, but then again, she shouldn't appear like she's purposely trying to ignore Ron, especially with as emotionally fragile as he could be with the whole 'Tara sitch.'

"Uh, nothing. You ready for some breakfast," she asked, noting that upon the word 'breakfast,' Rufus's eyes instantly popped open. From that, Kim assumed he'd been awake throughout their whole conversation, and was either too bored with it or just decided to give them their own space. Either way, Kim mentally thanked Rufus for not interfering with their discussion.

"I need to get dressed first, KP," he replied, getting out of bed, allowing Kim to see that he managed to change into his pajamas before going to bed, "but sure. Give me five minutes, okay?"

"Of course, I'll just wait in the hallway. Be quick," Kim said, flashing him a smile.

_Well, that was… eventful_, thought Kim as she shut his bedroom door and leaned against the opposing wall. _Obviously, Ron's still having some emotional problems, but if his Jewish faith is as strong as he says it is, maybe I won't have to help him as much as I think I'll need to or get any more involved than what he wants me to be. _Though she thought that, she knew, even at that time, that it was purely wishful thinking. _If the bond between Tara and him was strong enough, and the only reason he stopped dating her is because of her father, then he's in a very touchy situation. _For the first time since learning about all of this, Kim allowed herself to be angry at Tara's supposedly 'good' father. _What kind of person yells at his daughter's date for not sharing the same beliefs he had? It's so ludicrous that something like this could happen. It's just religion; it's not that big of a deal. _With that last thought, Kim switched gears by abandoning thinking of Tara completely and began pondering the topic of religion.

_Why wasn't I raised with a religion? It doesn't seem like it matters, but everyone I know seems to have a faith of some kind. Even Monique, though she rarely talks about it, goes to church every Sunday with her parents. It's so un-crucial, so why is it bothering me? I wonder what Wade's take on religion is; he's one of the smartest guys I know, so he'd have to be right._

Kim was not a fool, however. She knew there was no real 'right' answer when it came to religion (if it helps someone though tough times, it doesn't matter what people believe), but that knowledge was all abstract to her, and she couldn't quite grasp it. Logically, she knew that there had to be an absolute truth and correct answer, and whatever that would be, if anyone would know it, it'd be Wade.

She had no more time to dwell on it, however, as Ron walked out of his room wearing, as always, a red jersey and baggy pants. _Does he own anything else, _Kim thought with a small smile.

"You good to go," Kim asked, seeing Rufus sticking his head of the pocket and motioning with his paws for Ron to start moving to the feast.

"When it comes to food, KP, you know we're always good to go," he replied, petting Rufus into submission.

They walked down to the dining room in awkward silence. Kim thought of it as baggage from their conversation about religion and Ron being Jewish. The two, as long as they had been friends, had never quite had a discussion like that, and Kim figured they were both still thinking about what was said, though as Kim hadn't actually said much aside from some jokes (she mentally kicked herself when she thought about how disrespectful she had been toward his religion), she thought that Ron was much more likely thinking of Tara and that whole situation.

Kim still had no idea how she would approach Ron about that piece of information. She knew she had to, but she didn't exactly want to rush the moment or try and approach it too soon. Kim still had the duties of defending Trotzer. No matter how much other drama she faced during the mission, Trotzer still had to be her 'main priority.' Of course, this was all theoretical: Kim could no more care about Trotzer over Ron than she could blow up the Sun with a thought. _Even so_, Kim thought to herself, wishing Ron would speak up so she could stop thinking about these deep topic so early in the day, _I have to protect Trotzer and I have no intention of failing this mission. I cannot get sidetracked by all of this other stuff. I can't afford to._

Eventually reaching the dining room, still without sharing any more words between them, they ate, feeling awkward. Deciding not to eat in silence (aside from the crunching sound of her chewing on her bacon rapidly), Kim spoke up, though she knew the words were insignificant. "We don't need to do homework immediately after breakfast since we worked so hard yesterday. We can wait until the afternoon to start if you want to."

Though he looked up at her when she began speaking, she saw Ron was focused on his pancakes when he replied. "Oh, yeah. Cool." He said nothing more, and Kim bitterly thought _Way to contribute to the convo, Ron._

Not at all approving of or enjoying the heavy silence, Kim excused herself from the table to go speak with Trotzer, who she assumed was just in the living room, but even if he wasn't, it'd just give her more time to stall until she had to return to the quiet kitchen table. Walking across the hall, however, Trotzer was just where she thought he'd be: in his chair, eating a buttered, blueberry bagel with some steaming tea to his side.

"Good morning, Trotzer," Kim said, sitting in the same chair she sat in yesterday, the one across from her host.

"Miss Possible, what can I attribute as the cause to this joyous greeting," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I was thinking yesterday that, just because I don't particularly like you, doesn't mean I should aim to ignore you. If, for instance, an assassin broke in before dinner and killed you, I probably wouldn't find out until sometime the next day," she said, explaining her concerns with the current arrangement of things.

"That's not completely true, I'd wager," the old man said, taking a small sip of tea before explaining further. "I do have an alarm system built into this castle. Granted, it hasn't been tested in many a decade, but the warranty stated, when I got it in the early 1970's, that it should work for a minimum of 200 years."

"And you believed that," Kim asked incredulously, thinking that such a claim was utterly ridiculous.

Shrugging, he replied, "With as much as it cost, Miss Possible, I didn't have enough left to afford any doubt."

Finding the comment mildly amusing, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of causing her amusement, Kim didn't crack a smile. "What's supposed to happen if someone does break in?"

"If any window or wall around the perimeter is opened forcefully," he began, his hands now on his lap, "then an alarm throughout my whole home will sound. Nothing ear-blaringly loud, but it would be noticeable. That said, if these people are professionals, they may just as well find a way to bypass it somehow."

"Most likely, they will," Kim agreed. "Anyways, I just wanted to make sure I can check on you every two hours or so. Are you okay with that?"

"It's my life we're talking about, Miss Possible. If I'm allowed little privacy for maybe two more days, but I live, I don't think I will be complaining," he cordially said, looking sincere in his statement.

"Okay, I'll see you in a few hours, then, Trotzer," Kim replied, standing up.

"One thing more, Miss Possible," he said, stopping her before she could start walking back toward the dining room. "I was wondering what you and your… friend do for hours upstairs at a time. Not to sound as though I don't approve of privacy, I was merely pondering."

"It really isn't any of your business," Kim replied, but seeing no harm in telling him, continued, "but I'll answer you: homework."

He look slightly surprised, and, confusing Kim, put his head into his hands and chuckled softly to himself. Looking up at her and seeing her expression, he thought it proper to explain himself. "Miss Possible, call me foolish should you want to, but it slipped my mind completely and I forgot that, by accepting this mission, you'd be missing days of educational instruction."

"Really," Kim asked, even more surprised than he was, though not about the same thing, "Wade never mentioned it?"

"Oh, he probably did, as I said it slipped my mind. Perhaps I just wasn't listening as well as I should have been. It's been so long since I've been a child, and I forgot about all the little things that seem so important in life at the time, such as homework or the social structure." Chuckling again, he said, "That's all; don't let me detain you any longer. Have a fine morning, Miss Possible."

"Uh, sure, Trotzer, you too," she replied, and headed back toward the dining room. Compared to the silence between Ron and Kim, she would have happily preferred to stay with Trotzer, but she knew she had to just grit her teeth and try to get at least a little conversation out of him.

He was still sitting at the table, chewing on what appeared to be a muffin. Most unlike Ron, he was in deep thought; his eyes focused on some spot on the table, and didn't notice Kim walking back into the room.

Sitting down, she said, "Earth to Ron, do you copy?"

He slowly shook his head, and then blushed when he saw Kim. "Uh, hey there, what?"

"Ugh," she muttered, not at all having a good breakfast (or morning, for that matter), "nothing. I'm going upstairs to lay down a little, okay?" She didn't feel particularly hungry anyways, as her stomach was already unstable due to the drama she found out about that morning between Ron and Tara.

Ron looked concerned but ultimately didn't voice such thoughts. "Want me to give you some quiet time, KP?"

_Like you haven't already given me enough, _she thought coldly. "Yeah, Ron, please do," Kim replied, standing up and exiting the room. _Don't feel bad_, she consoled herself, _it's not like I left him alone. He's got Rufus. _The naked mole rat was a great pet, of this Kim had no doubt, but she didn't think he'd be able to hold a conversation like Kim would be able to. _Not that we were exactly chatting ourselves to death_ she reminded herself, annoyed. Similar thoughts flooded her head until she reached her room and shut the door behind her.

She crawled onto her bed and lay back, closing her eyes, not quite tired, but possessing a lethargic feeling for some reason or another. _So_, Kim's thoughts transitioning onto another topic that held her interest that morning, _why wasn't I raised religiously? _She was curious, no doubt, but didn't think it an appropriate topic to question her parents about over the phone. _I'll just have to find out after the mission, I guess. Heck, I might not even be interested then. It might just blow over. _Kim, however, had her doubts. Opening her eyes, Kim looked to the ornate ceiling above her, imagining she could see past it into the sky. _Is there a God up there right now watching me? It seems so unlikely, but… right. _Sighing, interested in his point of view on this matter, Kim grabbed the Kimmunicator in hopes of chatting with Wade.

Flipping it on, she said "Hey, Wade."

Wade had, of course, been there, and he was wearing his typical blue shirt and drinking soda. "Yeah, Kim, what's up?"

"Nothing mission-related, but just a few questions of interest," Kim replied. She never really used Wade for too much non-mission related information, but she was sure he wouldn't mind the questioning.

"Sure, Kim, no problem. What," he asked curiously, taking a sip of his drink, probably thinking along the same lines as Kim was.

"What do you think about God and religion?"

He gagged a bit and spat out a small amount of soda. Coughing a bit to clear his throat, Wade looked at the screen, appearing flabbergasted. "What," he asked in an unbelieving tone, "why do you want to know?"

Kim shrugged, then not sure if Wade could see her shoulders, replied, "I'm just interested. I had a religious convo with Ron this morning and it just got me thinking."

"Kim," Wade said, looking worried and his eyes darting around his room, "I don't feel comfortable talking about this."

Piquing her interest, she inquired, "Why not?"

"I don't need to give you a reason," he replied harshly, though Kim thought it was more out of nervousness than anger, not that she thought he had anything to be angry about.

"How come so many people have trouble talking about this stuff," Kim commented, voicing her annoyance with her experiences of religious conversations. "Ron acted the same way you did when I brought it up."

"It's a sensitive issue, that's all," Wade replied, adding, "so some people don't like talking about it. Like me. Is that all, Kim," he finished, his voice sounding very hopeful in tone.

"No it was not," replied an already annoyed and now deeply aggravated Kim. "What's wrong, Wade, are you a Nazi too or something?" She meant this as a quasi-joke to rile him up in anger and admit the truth, though seconds later she realized how tasteless that joke was.

Wade didn't look bothered, but he did look thoughtful. After almost 30 seconds, he replied in a tone of admittance, "Kim, I'm an atheist." He said this in a hushed voice, as if he were afraid that somebody would hear him.

The word had no negative connotation for Kim (unlike so many people), though she knew perfectly well what it meant. "Okay, your secret's out. I am _so _surprised," she replied sarcastically.

"Kim, you do know what the word means, right," he asked carefully, though to her, it sounded demeaning.

"I'm not stupid, Wade. You don't believe in God; I get it," she replied, again irritated.

"Why were you interested again," he asked, sounding ever so slightly more eager to talk about it for some reason.

Kim's shrug said it all, but as if it wasn't enough, replied anyways. "I'm not really sure, Wade. I just am."

"Okay, well," he said, and Kim knew he was going to give in to her persistence, "what specifically do you want to know about it?"

"Um, okay," Kim replied, thinking of the right way to word the question, "obviously you don't believe in God, but don't you think there might be one?

Wade's facial expression reacted to the question in confusion. "That made no sense, Kim. Atheists don't generally believe there might be a God."

"Well, I mean," Kim rushed back, trying to repair the foolish inquiry, "isn't it pretty likely there's a God? Doesn't all of this seem a bit too complex to be something that occurred-"

"Kim," he firmly said, cutting her off, "I know what you're going to say and the answer is no. Let me explain it, okay?"

"Sure," she replied, intrigued by how seriously he took this topic.

"Let's say the Earth is too complex to not have been created by a God, for argument's sake. God made the world. Okay?"

Not seeing a problem so far, Kim nodded. "Yeah."

"This is the flaw in that theory. God would have to be very complex Himself to have had been able to create the world, so the question remains: Who created the complex being of God? More so, who created the creator of God? It's an infinite regress, Kim. Whenever I think sometimes there might be a God, I think back to this simple logic and it sets me straight and reality comes back."

Kim's mind was blown. It made so much sense what he was saying. _Still, so many people have faith of some sort, so how couldn't some God exist_, she thought, confused. Decide to ask Wade in hopes more clarity would come, she asked, "Then how come there's so many religious people if that's true, Wade?"

"That's complicated to answer, Kim," Wade replied, sounding sincere in his words (and not just shrugging the question off), "because you'd have to understand how most religions work. Basically, in a very rudimentary explanation, followers of a religion are too terrified to question it, because they're told they'd go to Hell if they do. It's scare tactics, more or less."

"Yeah, but you'd think people would at least think a little for themselves," Kim replied, still not quite comprehending his point.

"That's the thing, Kim. Religion, in general, allows no room for people to think. In my opinion, religion should be considered a mental disorder, and scientists and psychologists should study it and its negative effects more. If someone's religious, it's not their fault, nor is it the fault of the parents if they raised that person to be religious." Starting to appear aggravated, he continued, "Religion has effectively destroyed critical thinking process in the average person and has kept society from progressing for hundreds of years."

"Well," Kim started, slightly surprised by his outrage, "it might not be true, you know, religion, but it still helps some people through hard times." It was true, too. Kim recalled once seeing a program on the television about how people's lives' improved a tenfold once they 'found' Jesus, and they seemed quite sincere.

"At the cost of being lied to. I'd rather be depressed and know I'm right then happy but possess a completely warped view of the world and science. Since its beginning, Kim, and try to understand this, religion has screwed over the human race." He was practically yelling now, and Kim thought it a good time to interrupt before he could go further.

"Wade, chill. It's nothing to get angry over."

"Nothing to get-. Have you not been listening," he asked, looking shocked. "Listen, Kim," Wade paused for a second to take a few deep breaths and compose him, and continued in a much calmer manner, "If my mother found out I was an atheist, do you know what would happen?" Not giving her a chance to reply, he said, "I would be thrown out of the house. I go to church every Sunday with her, and have to try not to throw up when I see all the brainwashing around me."

"Don't you think you're over-exaggerating a little bit, Wade," she replied, not imagining Wade's mother doing such an extreme thing over such an inconsequential issue.

He vehemently shook his head. "I do not, Kim. Not at all. For most African-American families, religion is a very important value, which is garbage to begin with as it was the Bible in the first place that promoted slavery, and in fact slave-holders used the Bible as an excuse to keep slaves. Actually, I think that-"

"Wade, focus," Kim said, not wanting him to get off on another tangent.

Sighing deeply, he nodded. "Okay, fine. From the impression I'm getting of you, Kim, you don't seem to understand how important religion is to most people."

"I guess I don't," she admitted, still not really seeing the big picture.

"Okay, you did learn about evolution in biology, right," Wade asked, a look of worry present on his face.

"Of course," Kim replied, and she did, though, if asked, she couldn't give any details aside that humans came from monkeys (which Ron found a troubling concept, Kim remembered).

"Did any students refuse to listen to the teacher or asked to be excused?"

Shrugging, she said, "A few, yeah. What's that have to do with anything?"

Wade looked rather aggravated again, but ended up not resorting to raising his voice. In an exasperated and strained tone, he replied, "And why do you think they did that?" Not asking it as a rhetorical question but seeing Kim obviously having no idea, he continued seconds later. "It's because the theory of evolution contradicts quite clearly the religious beliefs of Christians." He stopped for a few seconds, then amended his statement, "Well, other religions too, but you get my point."

Kim, by this point, had a headache, and wanted to end the conversation within the next five minutes, as interested as she was (and make no mistake, she was indeed interested). "Okay, so they're not willing to learn. Doesn't that harm them more the people who want to learn?"

"No, no, no," Wade said, shaking his head, "you'd think so on the surface, but that's not the full story. A lot of schools in the south don't even try to teach evolution because that's such a backwards portion of this country, very few down there believe in it."

"So some kids who want to learn this aren't taught because some people don't believe it," Kim asked for clarification, frowning. "That doesn't seem fair."

"The minority often is stepped on by the majority, Kim, and that's what this really comes down to, sadly." Pausing for a few seconds, he said, "I don't feel terribly comfortable talking about this much more, Kim, but I will say this. I understand that, for you, religion virtually never comes up, and because of that, you can't fully appreciate how important it is to some people. Some parents won't let their children date outside of their religion," (Kim thought, when he said this, how true that sentiment apparently was) "and wars between religions have been commonplace in history. I actually have a blog where I talk about different issues that concern atheists. Of course, I don't give my name, but the information is out there. I can link it to you, if you want me to."

Kim, intrigued, nodded her head. "Sure, Wade. That'd be cool."

"Okay, I'm sending it now. I'd prefer not to talk about this again because I don't want my mother to hear me," he admitted, looking like such an occurrence would bother him immensely. "If you have any questions though, I'd be happy to help. Just let me know beforehand so I can better secure the line, okay?"

"Yeah, that seems good, Wade. Have a good day. Oh! I almost forgot, did you get any information on these assassins?" _I can't believe that slipped my mind. Stupid religion, I need to focus on the mission_, she thought to herself.

Wade solemnly shook his head. "I'm still working on it, Kim. I just need a bit more time."

"Well, before they get here would be preferable," she replied.

"I'll get on it at a quicker pace; I can't do better," Wade said, looking sincere, and in fact already started typing more.

"Okay, well," Kim said, unsure if she should say thanks or not, "have a good day, Wade. If you come up with anything-"

"You'll be the first to know. Don't worry, I got this," he said, laughing a little before disconnecting.

Kim placed the device down and sat up on the bed, rubbing her forehead, trying to force the headache she had to leave. Needless to say, that approach wasn't successful, so she stood up and got some aspirin, all the while forcefully trying to _not _think about religion (as that is what gave her the headache in the first place).

Getting back to her bed minutes later, she slowly laid down, gingerly setting her head on the pillow, her headache not yet calming down. _Why would it though, _she considered to herself, _I just took the aspirin two minutes ago_. Grabbing her Kimmunicator, she pushed the link that Wade sent to her out of interest. She had no intention of starting to read it, but getting a hold on the blog might be a good idea, she thought.

As a teenage girl, Kim had seen her share of blogs, but this one was different in that the material was serious, and the writing was professional. The newest post was just from 14 hours ago, and was titled "So You Thought Hitler Was an Atheist?" Kim chuckled a little, finding it mildly amusing that her current situation inspired Wade to write about Nazis (or at least she thought that was it; it was too coincidental, in her opinion, to be non-related). When they learned about World War II, Hitler's religion was never brought up, so Kim had never thought about it before. Deciding to read a little, she clicked the 'Read More' tab at the bottom.

'Atheists have no morals. Look at Stalin and Hitler: Both killed thousands and thousands of people because they didn't have the moral foundations Christianity provides.' I've heard this argument before, and it makes me wish, if I were the vindictive type, that a meteor crashed into their house effectively demolishing not only the wooden structure, but the stupidity of the people who make claims such as these.

To get Stalin out of the way first, as he's not the focus of today's post, let me make this clear: He was a Communist, and as such, he was an atheist. He did terrible things. He did not, however, do these terrible things because he was an atheist. It's like saying a dresser falls apart because it was shipped to the USA on a Russian freighter. It may be true, but it has nothing to do with the outcome. The dresser fell apart because of its shoddy workmanship, and Stalin committed atrocities because he was a power-hungry lunatic. If you cannot understand this simple idea, than I truly pity you for your lack of a good educational grounding.

Preparing to scroll down more, a knock on the door caused Kim to jump. Quickly turning off the device in her hands, she said "Come in."

The door opened slowly, making Kim slightly wary, but then Ron walked through, and so there was nothing to be cautious about. He wore a strange look on his face, a mixture of depression and guilt. The look itself was not out of place on Ron (considering his recent troubles), but Kim saw no reason for him to be feeling bad at the moment. Apparently, he had thought otherwise.

"KP, I wanted to apologize for breakfast and making things awkward this morning," he said, standing in front of the open door.

Soaking in what he said (_He's taking all the blame for me asking him those questions_, Kim angrily thought to herself), she viciously shook her head, though slower than usual, as she still had a throbbing in her temple. "Ron, that's nonsense. I was the one who started that conversation, so if it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

Ron, who continued standing in the doorway, didn't look as though he quite agreed with her assessment of the situation. "Nah, see, KP, I should have not answered the questions. I could have been more firm in not talking about it, so it comes down to me."

"No, it doesn't, Ron," Kim forcefully said, annoyed he was acting this way. "Even if you think that, I shouldn't have tried to force answers out of you."

"Yeah, but-" Ron started, but was quickly cut off by Kim.

"This is stupid, us arguing over whose fault it is for making breakfast awkward. Let's just put it behind us, okay?" Kim was hopeful they could, because, in the scheme of things, the small religion matter wasn't crucial at all.

He gave a weak smile. "Makes sense, I think."

"Cool, then did you want to come in and shut the door," she asked, happy to have put that behind them. _For God's sake, we have so many more important things we need to discuss, what a waste of a breakfast that caused._

Ron hesitated a little longer, possibly still unsure of himself, then did so. Pulling the desk chair out, he sat there, and then asked, "So are we going to finish homework today, KP?"

"Yeah, we should. Um, what do you have left?"

"Home ec. and the rest of Latin," he replied quickly. "I was saving home. ec for last because it's usually simple for me. Anyways, the assignment is just comparing and contrasting three recipes, which sounds ridiculously easy."

"Yeah, for you, maybe. I just don't get that class, even if it is just cooking," Kim complained, and it was true: For some reason or another, Kim suffered quite terribly in that class, while Ron had masterful skills when it came to cooking. Aside from when he outshone her when they both worked for Bueno Nacho, it's one of the few times when Ron was much better at something than she was.

"Don't worry, if you need any help, I think I might help," Ron said, smiling quite genuinely.

"_Think_, Ron," Kim said, giving him a faux-scornful look.

And that's how the next two hours went: There was no apparent baggage from the conversation earlier, and it never came up. Kim mostly caught up with Ron, homework-wise, by completing world geography and starting Latin. They finished Latin together, and true to his word, he helped Kim with home economics, though she truly did try it without his assistance at first. Halfway through Latin, Rufus finally crawled out of Ron's pocket and muttered something to Ron about having eaten too much breakfast, which looked as if it were the truth. Not wanting to move much, Ron picked him up and placed him on the nightstand, where he lay until lunch.

Placing her books into her duffle bag for the last time until they went back to Middleton, Kim was quite satisfied they got everything done. More so, everything got done without too much trouble (aside from the first day of algebra, which still made the teen hero shudder when she thought about it). Ron also looked happy, and expressed that sentiment when he thanked Kim for helping him get through all of it. Apparently, he was a little more worried about his grades than Kim thought he was, because his 'thank you' was quite serious.

Not doing anything aside from chatting on light topics, Kim thought it was a good time to approach Ron about the Tara sitch. Not wanting to admit she read the note (at least at this point in time; it was too early and she was still too emotional about it), she avoided that piece of information when she asked the question, "Ron, how did the relationship between you and Tara start?"

Ron didn't exactly look surprised she asked this question. In fact, she would have bet he knew it would be brought up sometime that day. He sighed before answering, perhaps wanting to delay turning back to a serious conversation so soon. "Well, uh," he began nervously, "this happened a little while ago, like, over a month. After practice, while you were changing, I guess, she came up to me when I was taking my Mad Dog mask off. She looked," he paused, thinking of the right word, "flustered. Ya know, blushing. She was talking about how funny I was and how great of a mascot I made," (Kim, unnoticed by her best friend, was scowling at this point, as much as she wanted to remain cool and collected), "and then she asked me if I wanted to have a snack with her at that one coffee place in the mall. I think it was one of the few days you were actually busy with something after practice, so I had free time." Ron looked at her, hoping she remembered the occasion so she wouldn't think he was lying.

Kim thought back, trying to think of what she would have been busy with, preventing her from spending time after school with Ron. There weren't many times that happened, but it occurred to her that she did have to babysit once last month, which was mundane, but she wanted (_no, needed_) the money for a very cute Club Banana t-shirt, so that must have been it. Kim nodded, now knowing what he was referring to. "Go on," she urged him.

"Well, I said yes, even though I don't like coffee, and she seemed very enthusiastic about it. She then went to change and Rufus told me she had a crush on me." At this point in time, Rufus' head perked up, making sure he described the situation correctly, and gave an appreciative squeak at his being mentioned. "I sorta didn't believe him because, well, it's me we're talking about" (it was then that Kim realized how low his self-esteem must have been, no matter how well it looked like he handled it), "but to, like, test the theory, when she came back, I said something like 'I've been wanting to do this for a while, but I've been scared of asking you.' You know, to sorta test it out. Tara then got really embarrassed and admitted she liked me for, like, three months and was happy I felt the way I did." For his defense, Ron did look guilty at having had mislead Tara, but Kim knew he did have actual feelings for her, so she guessed it didn't matter at this point, even if Tara did find out (not that Kim would ever stoop that low). "We got along pretty well, and she seemed to really like me, and she didn't make me drink any coffee, so it sorta went from there, KP," he finished.

"Why did you date her, though," Kim asked, wanting some kind of confirmation of his deep feelings for her, "just because she was nice to you and liked you?"

"It's more than that, KP," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking toward his feet. "She's the only girl who ever liked me and doesn't avoid me because I'm a loser."

"You're not a loser, Ron," Kim firmly said, cringing inside at hearing him refer to himself as such.

He shrugged, replying, "Even so, the point stands."

"Yeah, well, how about me," Kim inquired, her voice lower than usual.

"I don't see you as a girl, KP. Not really, anyways. I just see you as my best friend." He said this in a tone of voice that Kim thought as trying to console her.

Kim was not at all consoled. Not wanting to tear up at that moment (though she felt like, if she did, it would have been the most natural thing in the world), she turned her head away and quietly sniffed, saying, "You hungry for lunch, Ron?"

Looking concerned about the quick shift of the conversation, he replied, confused, "Are you? KP, did I do something wrong?"

Not answering his second question, she replied, "Yeah, Ron, I'm hungry." She wasn't, though. Her stomach was so far from stable, she thought it might be a little while until she was actually craving something to eat.

Ron shrugged, stood up, and said, "Well then, let's go have lunch. I don't think Rufus would mind much." He said this last portion in a jestive tone, but Kim saw it was true, as Rufus suddenly looked much more excited, even though he still didn't want to be mobile. Of course, nothing would shock Kim when it came to Rufus' love for food.

Rather lackadaisical about trying to eat again, Kim stood up and followed Ron out her room without enthusiasm. Much like their walk to the dining room earlier, neither one spoke much, aside from Ron trying to lighten Kim up with a few feeble jokes, which ultimately didn't work. Rufus was greatly annoyed by this, and angrily chattered at his owner, but Kim was in a sort of daze, and didn't particularly notice.

Reaching the dining room, already feeling weary, Kim stopped in her tracks when she saw their host sitting at the far end of the table, eating what appeared to be an average sandwich. About to say she wasn't hungry anymore (which was true even prior to them leaving her room), Ron stopped her by whispering, "KP, relax, he's just an old man. Not some monster."

Johann Trotzer, on the other hand, when he saw the two enter, made his way to stand up. "Miss Possible, if you wish, I can retreat to my study. I have no desire to make your lunch uncomfortable."

With Ron's words fresh in her mind, Kim shook her head. "It's fine if you want to stay, Trotzer. You won't bother us." She saw, out of the corner of her eyes, Ron grin slightly in approval of how she handled the situation, and that little gesture made her feel much better than she has in quite some time.

Looking slightly stunned, Trotzer sat back down, carefully looking her over. "Well, if it's acceptable with you, I think I shall remain then."

Not liking the arrangement, but finding it tolerable, she walked to the center of the table to construct herself a sandwich, something simple like ham and cheese that she might be able to gulp down without too much trouble, ignoring their host.

On the other hand, Ron started talking with Trotzer almost immediately. "So what all is here, Mister Trotzer?"

"Well, I have lain out egg and tuna salad, some meats, from roast beef to Pastrami, along with turkey, ham, not that you'd want that," he said critically, but Ron took no notice as he was overlooking the choices he had, "bologna. I have a few kinds of chips around somewhere, like potato and nacho, but they're not on the table. If you wish, you could make yourself some hamburgers or hot dogs as I left some on the counter in the kitchen."

Ron shook his head, piling turkey onto some wheat bread. "No thanks, this looks good. Better than the lunch they give us at school, anyways, even if it is pizza."

Kim gagged a little, as trying to swallow food and laugh wasn't a good combination. Even Trotzer appeared to have chuckled a little at his comment.

"Well, young man, back in my day, us students had to bring the food with us. That show in America, Little House on the Prairie, I think, was pretty realistic to my schooling, though our building had two rooms instead of one. I grew up in a small village," he explained, then saying, with a look of remembrance in his eyes, "I recall once, when it came to food, that one day my mother packed a meat of some kind, which is never a great idea because it attracts animals if the temperature is high enough. Anyhow, it was a hotter day, not extremely sweltering, but hot enough to cause some discomfort. We were going over some algebraic expressions at the time, and the window was open as to try and draw a breeze in, when all of the sudden three owls flew into the room and went straight for me."

Listening with interest, Ron quickly sat down next to Kim and kept eye contact with Trotzer. He didn't notice Rufus eating the corner of his sandwich, which intrigued Kim; the story was sort of funny, but it wasn't exactly told with the gusto of a professional orator.

Chuckling slightly at the memory before continued, he paused a little. "Well, I was young at the time, maybe as old as 15, and I just see these birds flying at me. I'm petrified, and the other students are mixed between being amused and scared themselves. I dive under my table, as do some of my friends near me. Unfortunately, that's where my lunch was, so it didn't help at all. The teacher couldn't do anything, and was actually screaming at the owls, trying to scare them off."

He stopped a little so he could freely laugh without interrupting the story. By this point, Ron was laughing alongside him, and even Kim couldn't stop herself from grinning, trying to imagine the chaos of the scene.

Controlling himself, Trotzer continued shortly thereafter. "So, after three minutes, I'm still hiding under the table, the teacher is trying to hit the owls with a broom she got from the closet, hoping they'll fly back out the window. Eventually, it occurs to me that they're trying to get to my lunch, so I pick up the bag and throw it at the door, thinking it had been opened to help the process of ridding the birds from the room. It wasn't, so as I threw the bag, the birds swooped over the heads of some students, and then complete chaos followed."

A giant grin on her face, Kim heard herself asking, "What happened then?"

"Well," he fondly said, a dreamy gaze in his eyes, recalling his past, "it's a bit of a blur. I think some of the students jumped out the window, or opened the door, and ran home. I do recall that I was punished severely the following day for causing that to happen and disrupting class. It was always a fun story to talk about amongst my friends who were there."

"What happened to those friends," Ron inquired, slowly taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Trotzer sighed. "I lost track of most of them by the mid-1930s, I think. The last one I saw, Wolfgang, moved away to France or somewhere nearby for some reason or another. I always wish I knew why. It's the little things like that that truly haunt me, because I know I'll never discover the reason."

Trying to ask tactfully, Kim said, "Do you think he joined the Nazis?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "Wolfgang was a very pacifistic person. Among our friends, if any conflict arose, he would always be the mediator. We once got into a giant argument over a girl, and if he wasn't there, some of us would never have spoken to each other again, but then again, that's a story for another time."

"Huh," Kim uttered thoughtfully. Even when she was asking about his life as a Nazi the former day, it never occurred to her to wonder about his life before then.

Taking a sip of tea, Trotzer smirked. "I know, Miss Possible, what that look on your face means. You never thought about me in terms quite like these because the hatred you feel for what I did in five percent of my life blinds you from the other 95 percent that's left."

She hadn't quite thought about it in those terms, but the concept did make sense to her. _Have I been too judgmental? Ron doesn't seem to think about Trotzer in the same way I do, so is it me who's wrong? _Kim didn't know, and she really didn't want to think further about it. Not knowing how to answer, she looked at her plate and saw she had already devoured her lunch, though she didn't quite remember doing it as she was mesmerized by his story. Having nothing to distract her from Trotzer's observation, she looked up and gave a noncommittal shrug. "I guess, yeah."

Though not much, Trotzer appeared to be pleased with the reply. "I thought as much. Your friend, despite being what he is, seems to be more open to conversing with me than you've been," he stated, finishing off his sandwich.

Kim looked over at Ron and saw that he had a thoughtful expression on his face, possibly due to Trotzer's statement. Before she could say something, he looked over at her and said, "KP, I'm tired. I think I'm gonna go up to rest."

As he said this, it occurred to the girl that Ron indeed did look rather tired. Not sure why she didn't notice before, she found herself saying, before she could stop herself, "Excuse us, Trotzer." Only a split second later, she remembered that she was supposed to be angry with their host. Actually, she wasn't sure exactly how she should be feeling, but she pushed it out of her mind as she stood up.

"Of course, I'm sure I'll see you later," Trotzer replied politely, bowing his head to Kim.

Standing up, Kim followed Ron out of the room, grabbing Rufus as Ron seemed to have forgotten him. Jogging slightly to catch up with her friend, she grasped his shoulder before he could start up the stairs. "What's up, Ron?"

"Nothing, I just feel tired," he replied, looking back at her.

"Well," Kim started, concerned, "you almost forgot Rufus." _Almost_, she thought to herself, _he did forget Rufus._

"Oh, uh, thank you," Ron awkwardly said, grabbing his pet from Kim. "Ya know, you don't have to make sure I get there safe."

Giggling, Kim replied, "If I didn't, Ron, you'd get lost ten times over."

"So not, KP," he snorted huffily. "I've walked this path for days now; I think I know how to get there correctly."

"Well, then consider me moral support in case you fall asleep while walking up the next flight of stairs," Kim said, smiling and happy they were again acting like the pair of friends they were.

"In that case, thanks," he said, grinning.

Walking the rest of the way in relative silence, Kim wondered exactly how to further help Ron with his problem. _Where do I go from here? I know how they met, so now I just need him to admit to me the truth about why they 'broke up,' and I'm not sure when he'll be ready to do that. I guess if he doesn't talk to me about it before we go back to Middleton, we can tackle it there, but it'd be nice to make everything alright away from Tara. _Feeling slightly guilty at the sentiment, she knew it to be true. She did not at all want Tara to be the one who 'healed' him, as selfish as it sounded in her mind (and she did think it was selfish).

Reaching his door, Ron turned to face Kim. "Um, well, I just need to rest. Since we got all the h-work done, I don't think you need to wake me up for anything. I'll be up for dinner anyway, I'm sure," (_Knowing Ron_, Kim thought, _he would be_), "so don't worry about it. Talk to you later, KP."

"Sure thing, Ron," she replied, waving at both Ron and Rufus who were now disappearing slowly behind his bedroom door.

Happy for some peace, she walked into her room, already pulling her Kimmunicator out so she could talk with someone. Her mind was moving at too quick a pace to be able to lie down and rest herself. Not knowing who to talk to (Monique would be in school, her parents would be busy with something or another, and she just spoke with Wade), she was about to put the device away in annoyance when it started beeping. Almost dropping it due to surprise, she faced it toward her and said, in an inquisitive tone, "What's the sitch?"

Expecting to see Wade, she was taken aback by her friend Felix being on the screen, and in the background she saw the faces of passing peers, leading Kim to realize he was in school. He spoke quickly, probably wanting to make sure she didn't pass out from surprise.

"Hey Kim, nothing's wrong with Wade," he reassured her quickly, "actually, he doesn't even know I'm using this line; so if possible, try to keep him from finding out."

"Yeahbuhwha," she quickly uttered, confused immensely.

"Okay, let me explain," he said, a look of concern on his face. "I just found out that you and Ron were in Luxembourg. I called Monique, looking for you, because I told her I was looking for Ron, and she told me where you where. Apparently, she was told by Wade, and Wade-"

"Stop," Kim said, trying to be polite about it, but her headache made it difficult, "I don't care who you found out from. What's up?"

"Well, it's sort of personal," he replied, his eyes shifting over her shoulders. "Is Ron around, by any chance?"

"You just missed him, he went to go rest," Kim said, wondering what this was all about.

"Good, good," Felix said, distracted. "Listen, this may not be easy to hear, but Ron's been a little down for a bit."

"Duh, I think I knew that," she replied, wondering why he was stating the obvious.

"Yeah, okay, I wasn't done though," he stated. "What you don't know is that, and this will be the hard part, he's in a relationship with Tara."

_How the hell does he know, _Kim's thoughts screamed to herself in outrage, _Ron was supposed to not tell anyone._ "Wha- How do you know?"

Looking guilty, he replied in a hushed tone, "I sort of hacked his phone records. He's been really distracted during our last few gaming sessions, and, to be honest, he's no fun if he's not at his 100 percent."

"So all you care about is his gaming ability," Kim coldly said, thinking she was reiterating his sentiments.

"No, that's not it at all," Felix quickly replied. "I wanted you to know so maybe you could talk to him. I don't know much, but I think something big happened between them," (_You have no idea_, Kim's cynical thoughts rang out in his mind), "and I think you might need to help him through this, as uncomfortable as it may be for you."

"And why exactly do you think it'd be uncomfortable for me," she asked in a worried voice, wondering if her recent feelings for her friend were that obvious.

"Because I'm not an idiot, and I'll say no more on that matter," he replied, looking as though he intended to stay true to his promise.

Sighing, Kim said, "I already knew. I found out pretty recently myself. Don't worry, I'll deal with it."

Not looking shocked by her admittance at knowing, he replied skeptically, "Exactly what route were you going to take? Like, were you going to try to repair the relationship once you know the problem or try to-"

Kim cut him off, not wanting to hear his accusations on the matter. "Trust me, I will help him. Even I don't know how yet, but I will do it."

The firmness of her last words seemed to expunge Felix's qualms, as he no longer looked worried.

"Okay, Kim, I'll see you and Ron when you get back. Good luck with whatever the mission is." He disconnected before Kim could say goodbye, but she expected as much; if Wade caught him using this line, he would go ballistic.

Placing the Kimmunicator on her nightstand, she got onto her bed and lay back, relaxing. Physically, she hadn't done much today so far, but she still felt exhausted just the same. For just over three straight hours, she lay on her bed, looking at the ceiling. She did not fall asleep or lose conscienceless, as she sometimes looked to the clock and saw the interval growing then dropping, and the process repeating itself. If anything, it would be fair to say that Kim zoned out.

Shaking herself out of the daze close to 5:00 pm, Kim stood up and stretched, wondering if her mind going blank like it did was comparable to a computer being overloaded with commands. _Seems like a good analogy, and it sorta makes sense. I mean, I have learned a lot these past few days_. Thinking that, she thought she was underestimating just how much she'd been through since Saturday, but not wanting to dwell on it, she went to the bathroom to shower, not that she thought she needed to, but without Ron around, she quickly became bored.

_It's a bit pathetic, really, _she thought to herself while undressing, knowing that her amusement shouldn't depend on another person, but at the same time, it seemed to make sense to Kim that her best friend would of course increase the enjoyment in her life. _Damn it, I'm a teenager, not a philosopher, I shouldn't be thinking about this stuff_.

After three minutes, deciding she really had nothing to do anytime soon, the shower she took became a bath. Feeling like a little girl, but knowing there was no one around to judge her, she eased her body down into the tub, plugging the drain so the water could gather. Her bed was comfortable, no doubt, but this feeling, with the warm water swirling around her, was akin to Heaven, in Kim's opinion. _No, not Heaven_, she corrected herself, trying not to think about religion right now, _but really, really nice._

An hour passed, and then another hour. Kim kept recycling the water so it would stay warm, and it was only after the fourth time doing so when she realized she should probably go have dinner. Immediately after that thought, her mind exploded in self-rage, though a calm self-rage, as she really didn't want to yell in her mind after such a calming evening. _Trotzer! I'm supposed to check on him every two hours or so, what the hell have I been doing? Dozing off and taking a damn bath?_

Angrily ripping the plug out of the drain, she stood up and grabbed a nearby towel, rubbing herself dry quickly. Not bothering to change into new clothes, she got dressed in record speed, exiting her room, and was on her way downstairs when she stopped before reaching the steps, a thought occurring.

_Is Ron awake? _Glancing dubiously at the staircase, she decided he probably wasn't. _He said he'd be awake for dinner, so should I wake him up?_ Kim scrunched her face in annoyance. Ron can sometimes be quite difficult to fully wake, and more so, she decided, he did look pretty worn out hours back, so maybe waking him up would be a disservice. _Yeah, okay, I'll let him sleep a bit more._ As worried as she was for Ron, though, she was slightly more concerned about Trotzer.

_It's been what, five, six hours? How could I have been so forgetful? _Almost sprinting down the stairs, she reached the dining room in less than three minutes, though, and she would never admit this, out of breath. Unfortunately, it was effort wasted as the chair in which he usually occupied sat vacant.

Now frantic, she rushed up the stairs, than began to slowly walk around the second floor hallway, which she's walked through many times, but never took the time to really notice the surroundings. Hoping she didn't already give her position away to the assassins (not that she knew for sure they were there, but there was no denying she was highly antsy now), Kim sneaked down the hallway, nary making a sound.

She didn't hear anything, but as she knew, it didn't mean there wasn't anyone there. Every door to her looked the same, and she didn't even know which side of the hall Trotzer's room was on, so she was officially lost. _There's eight rooms_, she told herself sullenly. _Where to start?_

Grabbing the doorknob to the door on her immediate left, she clenched it tightly, and swiftly turned it and threw the door open. The room was empty. _Well, not empty, just no people_, Kim thought to herself. Covered furniture seemed to be the theme of this room, as there was a ton of it. Also, while there was no dust, the room had an unlived-in atmosphere. Whatever the case, no one was hiding in this room. _Well, one down, seven to go_, Kim thought, not sure if that notion was a positive one or not.

Walking back into the hallway, she saw a dark silhouette standing just 15 feet away. Kim was about to start a running attack maneuver, but then noticed the cane.

"Trotzer, what the hell are you doing," she shouted, jogging up to him.

He appeared surprised by her exclamation and sudden appearance. "I was getting ready for bed, Miss Possible. Really, I don't see the need for such language," he replied sternly. "What exactly is the problem?"

Feeling idiotic, she stalled a second before replying. "Uh, well, I, um, thought the assassins got to you because I didn't see you in your chair."

He chuckled lightly, making Kim feel all the more foolish. "Well, I respect your prudence in ensuring that I am unharmed, Miss Possible, but as you can see, I am fine. There's food on the table, if you and your friend want a late dinner."

"Ron's sleeping," she replied, looking at her feet, her face burning red. "I'll have a little something before going to bed. Want me to clear the table after I'm done?"

He shook his head. "Not necessary. This isn't your house, so I won't assign you any chores. I'll take care of it when I wake up." Yawning, he waved her away, as if she were a fly. "Have a nice night, I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding, Kim turned around and made her way back downstairs. _I can't beat myself up for thinking they were here_, she thought to herself, referring to the assassins. _I guess, though, I shouldn't immediately jump to conclusions. Well, it's all in the past now. _Which was true; if Ron were there when she 'freaked out', though, Kim knew she would never have heard the end of it.

Walking down the stairs in no real hurry (she wasn't particularly hungry, and more so, she didn't feel tired, so she didn't see any reason to get back to her room quickly), Kim reached the dining room, the luminescence from the candles on the table causing a drowsy atmosphere, much like her dinner the former night with Ron.

_Ron._ Just the thought made her stomach knot up, though she knew such an action (as involuntary as it was) was stupid. She was worried about him, but her reasons for her stomach knotting up were much simpler: she, at the moment, in the giant dining room, felt lonely. Grabbing a plate and unenthusiastically piling on some mash potatoes, pot roast, and fried rice, she sat down at the seat nearest to the door, and began eating.

Chewing mindlessly on the food, she finished the plate in 20 minutes. She was far from famished, but after the first few bites of the roast, she ate slightly more eagerly. Her satisfaction of the food, however, did not erase the feeling of loneliness Kim didn't feel lonely often; from Monique to Wade, and her parents, and Ron, Kim felt she had all the friends she needed. _Helps me out a lot now_, her mind reminded her bitterly.

Pushing the chair back under the dinner table, she made her way back up to her room, noticing how dark the castle was, and more so, how empty it felt without Ron or Trotzer within her sight. She wasn't scared (it's been years since Kim Possible was truly anxious of the dark), but she didn't exactly enjoy the surroundings in their current state. Before long, she was on the third floor, and was about to enter her room when she remembered Ron.

Feeling motherly while doing so, she walked over to his doorway and peeked in at him, in part to make sure he was all right (hours and hours without Ron did concern her slightly, even if he was legitimately tired) and in part just to see him again before she went to bed. He was lying down peacefully, a white sheet covering his body up to just below his chin. She spotted Rufus on the nightstand next to him, turning over slightly to lie in a more comfortable position. Smiling at the picturesque scene, Kim slowly shut the door and retreated to her room.

This time taking the few minutes to change into her sleepwear, which consisted of a sky blue top and bottom, she openly yawned before lying down on her bed. She had no intention of thinking about anything before falling asleep, and true to her intentions, within minutes, she was asleep. As she slept, all was peaceful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, so it's been a while, but I managed to get this out within my time schedule, so I guess that's good. I don't believe I have much to say regarding this story or chapter, but I'll come up with something.  
**

**I think (and I do mean think; I'm not sure at all) that with the end of this chapter, I've reached the half-way point of this story. I can't confirm that, but I feel as though it's about right.  
**

**On other news, I do have a Twitter account just for myself as an author, which I update every now and again with news of my stories (and it's a lot quicker than waiting for me to publish a story with an author's note), so if you're interested, look on my profile for more information. If you do not have a Twitter account nor do you ever want one, that's fine, I'm just doing this in case anyone wants to use it.  
**

**If any errors pop up, please let me know so I can get on that as soon as possible. Also, I still love reading reviews and such, so if you hated this chapter or you loved it, let me know. Heck, even if you didn't read it but want to comment on my profile picture, it's another review so I'm fine with it (really, though, don't do that). Even if you don't leave a review, thanks for reading.  
**

**I think that's all, though like I said, for updates on any of my other stories or story ideas, check out either my profile on here or my Twitter account.  
**

**I still do not own Kim Possible, sad as that may be.**

**Hope everyone who reads this is well and enjoys this chapter.  
**

* * *

Ron heard the turning of the doorknob and shuffling of feet outside his door while it opened slowly. Knowing with relative certainty it was Kim, he continued breathing deeply to give the impression he was asleep. His logic was simple and selfless: If Kim knew he was awake, they'd start talking, and Kim wouldn't get to bed before late in the night, messing up her whole schedule and endangering Trotzer's life more (because Ron certainly couldn't protect him from assassins). More so, while it hadn't been as awkward as the previous day, he thought that maybe he and Kim should be free of each for some time, giving them each time to think and, more importantly, clear their heads.

Hearing the door shut, he let out a low sigh. He knew something was going on with Kim (her reaction to his perfectly reasonable "I see you as a friend" line showcased that much), but as to what, Ron didn't even pretend to himself to have the slightest idea. He would ask her, but asking Kim questions of personal nature might anger her, and he didn't want to leave Luxembourg with an enraged Kim at his side.

Turning his mind to much less important but more practical matters, Ron wondered what dinner was left. _Trotzer usually goes all out when he makes food. He makes a lot of it, so there should be something left. It may be late, but I need to eat something_. With that in mind, he slowly began to sit up, his head foggy after sleeping for so long. He looked at his clock was surprised to see it only read 7:25 pm. _It's only seven? _Yawning, he slipped out of his bed and nudged Rufus. The mole rat opened his eyes slowly, looking as groggy as Ron felt.

"Hey there, buddy, you want to go down for something to eat," he asked in a low whisper, not wanting Kim to hear him.

To his utter shock and disbelief, Rufus made a gesture he took as 'no.' Not quite comprehending it (he was tired, not stupid), he asked again, more slowly. Rufus yawned a little, and then turned over, waving his paw at Ron as to signify he understood correctly the first time.

Flabbergasted, but not one to force his pet to eat (as he never had to force him before), Ron felt around the base of his bed in the dark to locate a pair of slippers he knew he brought with him. Finding them after a little, he slipped them on his feet, and with one last glance at Rufus (who looked like he had fallen back asleep), Ron left the room in search of food.

* * *

Taking his time, as he discovered it was nowhere near as late as he thought it was, Ron reached the darkened dining room 20 minutes after he shut his door. The shadows, at least in his opinion, were spooky, and he wasn't too thrilled to be eating in such a dark area. Luckily, however, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the fireplace in the living room was lit for some reason. Deciding to grab his dinner and eat in front of the fire (which was a comforting thought), he grabbed a plate and filled it with food, and began walking toward the flames.

He stopped suddenly, however, when he saw that Trotzer's chair had somebody in it, namely Trotzer. Not knowing if he dozed off there, Ron cleared his throat and spoke. "Uh, Mr. Trotzer, you awake?"

His body shook slightly, and lifted his head before replying. "What?"

_That answers that question_. "Uh, can I eat my dinner in here, 'cause, like, the kitchen's dark and I like this more." He realized how lame it sounded, but found he didn't care, as it was the truth of the situation.

Trotzer yawned before answering, the flames bouncing off the deep curves in his face, causing him to be surrounded by an almost sinister aura. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry you found me in such a state; I came down here to do something and I must have fallen asleep."

"What were you doing," Ron asked out of interesting, taking his plate to a nearby chair and sitting down.

"Thinking," he simply replied, laying his head back. "When you know you could die in the next 24 hours, thinking becomes a very popular pastime."

"Huh," Ron said, taking a small bite out of his pot roast. "I wouldn't worry too much, Mr. Trotzer. Kim is a very good fighter, and I'm almost positive you'll come out of this fine."

"That is all good and well, but you're not the one being targeted, so I wouldn't expect you to understand," Trotzer replied, not unkindly, but with an edge in his voice. "Anyhow," he continued dismissively, as Ron was about to reply, "I can't see where you would have a problem with this. I'm sure you want the assassins to accomplish their mission."

"That's uncalled for," Ron angrily replied, placing his plate down on a coffee table in front of him, "I want you to survive just as much as anyone else would. Why do you think I came?"

"The fact that your best friend is beautiful has nothing to do with it, I'm sure," he replied dryly.

About to retort, Ron decided he didn't really want to go down that path. "Keep Kim out of it, she's missing school to help you out. You should be appreciative of that."

"Don't get me wrong, boy, I am appreciative of Miss Possible's attempts at keeping me safe. From my point of view, however, I can't see what use your being here is to me," Trotzer said in a stern tone of voice.

Wanting to tell him that Kim would have left if he didn't intervene, Ron stopped himself. _I can't say that. Kim's a hero, she wouldn't have really left if it got down to it._ Not sure if he truly believed that or not, Ron let it go, and instead, replied, "I think I've done enough to make sure you come out of this unharmed, Mr. Trotzer." _Er, cryptic, _he thought to himself, _but true, and without having to go into details._

"Very droll, indeed," Trotzer replied, reaching for a cup of tea by his side that Ron hadn't seen before. "I thought you might say something like that, though; your type is always trying to claim superiority over others."

Ron couldn't believe he heard that coming from Trotzer's mouth, considered he did what he did. Instead of shouting, which he was close to doing, he calmly replied, "I think that's a hypocritical statement, considering, Mr. Trotzer."

"I told Miss Possible, when we had a discussion of a similar topic, that I wanted nothing to do with the Holocaust," he began, in a defensive tone of voice, "and I would hope that you are able to believe the truth in me saying this. I cooked and prepared food; I did nothing more."

Ron hadn't heard Kim inform him of this (as she didn't talk about their conversation at all), but found that, even if this was true, it made no difference to what Trotzer was saying now. "You still deem us of the Jewish faith inferior, so I don't care if you took it to extremes, you still would have supported it in a small way, just like how you say I would support the assassins."

Trotzer appeared rather angry at his response. "That is just _your_ kind of logic. It has no effect on me whatsoever."

"Are you listening to yourself," Ron asked, trying to continue to be respectful but finding himself shocked at Trotzer's words. "That makes no sense. Because I'm a Jew, I have a different system of logic?"

"I've never pretended I understood all of the secrets of your kind, boy," he huffed back.

"You're under the assumption my people _have _secrets," Ron retorted incredulously. "Listen," he continued, calming down a bit, though trying to get through to Trotzer was aggravating, "I don't think you're a bad guy. I don't inherently dislike you for what you did in World War II. You made your choice, and you'll pay for it if you haven't already. Why can't we talk to each other in a respectful manner?"

Seething, Trotzer looked to his feet which were adorned with blue slippers. "We have nothing to talk about because we have nothing in common. Just eat the food and go."

Deciding not to dispute his claim, though he did disagree with it, Ron took another bite out of the meat he was eating. Suddenly, an idea came to his mind. "How about food, Mr. Trotzer?"

"Food?" He looked confused at his statement, as his face made obvious. "What are you on about, boy?"

"I like to cook and bake; I don't know why I'm so good at it, I just am," Ron modestly replied. Trying to convince Trotzer, as he was wearing a skeptical look on his face, he concentrated on the taste of the pot roast he had just swallowed. "You used grape seed oil in this, not olive oil like most people would." To most people, Ron would sound like a prodigy with this statement, but what Trotzer didn't know, and what Ron was very thankful of, is that just two weeks ago he prepared a platter of pot roast for his parents, and used, by the taste of it, the exact same ingredients that Trotzer did.

Trotzer's reaction of his eyes widening told Ron all he need to know: he was correct about the grape seed oil. "But-but," he sputtered lowly, "that's such a light taste, how could you possible indicate it?"

"I told you, I like to cook and bake," Ron replied, keeping a straight face though finding his amazement amusing.

"And just how did you develop this habit," he asked, not unkindly, per se, but still with a cold look in his eyes.

Ron shrugged, as he really didn't know. It was just ingrained in him, to his knowledge. "I'm not sure. Back home in my high school, I'm in home economics, and I found that I excelled in it."

"Spectacular," he muttered, looking at him as though through a whole new lens. "So," Trotzer said, his voice becoming stiffer, "maybe we have one thing in common, but that hardly means we have a connection. I'm 90; you're a mere teenager. We come from completely different times."

"So we shouldn't even try," Ron asked, attempting to understand his point of view. _If that's what he thinks, it's pretty stupid_.

Trotzer looked aggravated at his questioning session. "Within the next 24 hours, most likely, we will be parting and never see each other again. There's no point in trying to get to know you."

"The point, for me, anyways, is simply to show you I'm human," Ron replied in a calm voice. "I'm not trying to tell you you're wrong, I'm just trying to get you to maybe at least be able to accept Jews as people."

"I live here in solitary year-round. It's a bit late for a de-conversion," Trotzer retorted, his eyes leaving Ron's and looking toward the flames in the fireplace. "It's too late for any of that. The best years of my life are far past me. It would make no different or sense to change now."

In his reply, Ron saw into Trotzer's soul for the first time while in his mansion of a home. He knew his host probably wasn't living the happiest of lives, but just how depressed he was, Ron didn't know. _It might not even be depression, though; maybe this is just what happens when someone lives as long as he has. I mean, if I make 90 years old, would KP still be alive?_ Not wanting to think about it, Ron shook his head, though Trotzer didn't notice, as his eyes were still focused on the fire in front of him.

"I haven't spoken about this in over 20 years," Trotzer said, in a low voice, absent of anger or resentment toward Ron, (and, in fact, Ron didn't even know if Trotzer knew he was speaking aloud), "but I was married once. Oh, she was the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on."

"What was her name," Ron politely asked, curious as to the point of the story and also surprised at that piece of information. _I guess KP isn't the only person who makes assumptions_.

"Alwara," he replied, a small grin forming on his aged lips, "not the most common of names, but that was it. We met in West Germany in the late 1950's." Sighing for a slight second, he continued. "Most of her family was in East Germany, and she wasn't having any success at trying to help them escape. I sensed the pain, and tried to help her." Another pause occurred, but unlike just seconds earlier, it didn't look like he was going to go on.

"Help her with what, trying to get her family out," the younger male asked, not quite on the edge of his seat, but realizing that Trotzer needed to say this, as if it was cleansing him to talk about it after so long.

He shook his head, and put his head in his hands. "No, tried to get her to forget the problem. I moved her to Luxembourg with me when I went back, and shortly thereafter we got married and moved here. I had some money, though the vast majority of my fortune didn't come until the late 1960's and early 1970's. We lived happily until 1979 when she had an unfortunate accident on the road. I was grief-stricken, but after a few months, I tried to find her family, and I was determined to get them out. It didn't take long to find out they'd been dead since the 1960's when they tried to get out."

He sighed, and Ron absorbed his words. "I have to ask, Mr. Trotzer," he said gently, "what does that have to do with me?"

"The point is, boy," he said, looking up, returning to his earlier tone but noticeably less sharp, "I have not always been some bitter old man. I had a good life and a loving wife for the longest time. My best years, so if I am to die tomorrow, perhaps it's about time," Johann Trotzer finished simply.

"Listen," Ron began, annoyed at the attitude Trotzer was taking about this, "you're not going to die tomorrow. Kim-"

He was cut off. "I feel as though it's time for me to retire. You can finish your dinner, and then I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow may be a long day." And with that, Trotzer stood up, placed his cup down on the coffee table, grabbed his cane, and slowly walked out of the room.

_Well, I tried, anyway_, Ron thought while finishing the food on his plate. Staring into the flames of the fireplace while chewing, his mind was relatively blank. Subconsciously, he was thinking about the following day, if the assassins would come, how everything would play out. He promised Trotzer that he would be fine, but of course Ron knew he couldn't guarantee it. Still, he'd never seen Kim fail so badly that it resulted in a death, and Ron didn't think it would happen this time either. He'd bet his life on it, in fact.

After thirty more minutes of sitting there (he'd long since finished off his dinner), Ron stood up and returned the plate to the kitchen, and made his way upstairs to his room. Glancing at Kim's door before entering through his own, he quietly whispered "Sweet dreams, KP."

Minutes after lying down in his bed amongst the darkened room, he was asleep again, as if he was never even awake.

* * *

Kim rapidly blinked her eyes and yawned before sitting up. Stretching her arms out, she glanced at the clock, which read 7:23 am. _Not bad,_ she thought to herself, smirking, _maybe my schedule won't be too screwed up when I get back to Middleton._ With that optimistic thought in mind, she stood up and went through the process of getting ready for the day.

An hour later, after a shower and a change of clothes, Kim stepped through her door and immediately walked over to Ron's room. Opening his door without even trying to be quiet about it, not wanting to feel lonely this morning as she did last night, she didn't care if she had to drag Ron downstairs, he would wake up.

Rufus jumped up, his paws rubbing his eyes, and looked at Kim angrily. She chuckled slightly, as Rufus was very rarely ever truly angry, and if he ever was, it never lasted long, and focused on Ron. He, unlike his pet, was still sleeping. Rolling her eyes, she sat down on his bed next to his chest and slightly shook him. It didn't take long for him to stir.

"What, what," he whined, his eyes shooting open. "Oh, hi there, KP," he said, closing his eyes.

"Okay, so not, Ron," Kim said, lightly shoving his shoulder, forcing him to sit up.

Yawning and leaning against his pillows, he opened his eyes. "Okay, I'm up."

Smiling, Kim replied, "You're not up 'til you're downstairs eating breakfast." At this, Rufus rubbed his stomach and chattered in agreement, all apparent anger forgotten.

Ron, however, didn't look as enthused (or enthused at all, for that matter). "One more hour?"

Shaking her head in frustration, she found that she couldn't really make him get up. Two reasons made this apparent to her: first, she wasn't his mother, and secondly, a lot was going on with him as it was with Kim, so if he wanted a little more time to sleep than usual, she couldn't really fight that. She hadn't forgotten when she blanked out on the prior day.

"Only if you answer yes to this question," Kim said, deciding it was a good gauge as to see whether or not she should allow him extra-sleeping time, "did you wake up sometime last night and eat?"

He nodded, saying, "Yeah, like, at, um, after you fell asleep. I forget the time," he admitted. "It was still sorta early, like maybe 9:00 or something. I, uh, ate then," Ron finished, not wanting to bring up the conversation with Trotzer.

Letting out a long-winded sigh before replying, Kim said, "Fine, one more hour, but if you're not downstairs by then, I'm coming up to get you."

Ron smiled before positioning himself lower under his sheets. "Don't worry, KP, I'll be there. You can take Rufus with you, 'cause I think he's sorta hungry." Looking over at his pet, Kim saw that Ron was correct; he was practically begging Kim to take him with her. "I'll see you then, Kim," he finished, closing his eyes.

Sighing one last time to make it clear to Ron how annoyed she was, she grabbed Rufus, who ran up her arm to her shoulder. "Okay, sure."

Reaching the dining room less than ten minutes later, after saying hello to Trotzer who was in the living room, Rufus jumped off her shoulder and began nibbling on some scrambled eggs, while Kim grabbed a plate and looked at her prospects. Deciding to go with an unhealthy (but tasty, she was sure) choice of bacon and biscuits with gravy, she saw down and looked out the giant window at the end of the room, which she never really took notice of before. The view wasn't much (just the nearby forest), but it did show how beautiful of a morning it was. Unfortunately, Kim had other things on her mind than the physical beauty of the world outside.

Replaying the different topics that were consuming her thoughts in her mind, Kim understood how she just "shut off" yesterday. She already decided to save any religious questions for her parents for after the mission, and she was at a stand-still for how to further Ron's trust in her so he himself would reveal why he insisted on stop seeing Tara. _Is that all_, she wondered to herself, and then blushed as she realized that she still needed to tell Ron about her new feelings.

_Wait, wait, do I have new feelings_, she frantically asked herself, not knowing whether or not she really thought about it much to confirm it, deciding to do it now. _Well, I was really jealous when I found about the relationship with Tara, _she began, trying to think about it logically,_ I love being around him, plus he makes me feel complete. I think about him almost constantly, first thing when I wake up and last thing before I go to sleep… _Though the conclusion she came to was slightly scary, Kim realized it was completely true. _I love him._

Looking over at Rufus to make sure he didn't somehow read her mind (he didn't; he was too focused on some blueberry muffins to notice her), she thought more about it while her face burned. _Okay, I love him, how do I tell him if he's too focused on his own problems? He already said he only sees me as a friend._ That memory of yesterday coming back, her eyes became teary, and her left hand tightly grabbed her kneecap to focus her anger somewhere. _Damn it_, Kim thought to herself, enraged, _how do I get him to see me as a girl? _Kim wasn't sure it was possible, but she did know she would try with all her heart.

_I'll work on it after this mission; I can't be this out of focus. I'll deal with it somehow, even if it has to be in Middleton._ Her stomach churning, she tried to stop thinking about it, wiped the small amount of tears out of her eyes, and instead, focused on her bacon. _I wonder how much cholesterol this has in it. _Sure, compared to the earlier topic, bacon was dull, but Kim thought the question did have its merits.

After twenty more minutes of forcing breakfast down, she pushed the plate away from her, disgusted at herself. _I only ate all of that to distract myself from Ron. That's a stupid way to cope. No_, she corrected herself, _it's not even a coping mechanism; it's a distraction. _Looking to her side, she saw that Rufus also looked finished with his breakfast, as he was lying on his back and moaning. Grinning at this, happy to feel a little weight to be lifted from her shoulders, in Rufus' general direction, she said, "I'm going to go see Trotzer for a little, okay?"

Rufus heard her and replied by raising his right paw and giving her a thumbs up. Standing up, Kim pushed the chair in and made her way across the hallway to the living room. It just struck her then that she hadn't been outside since she and Ron got there, which amazed her. _God, I'm not a geek or anything, I can't believe I've stayed in my whole time here_. Shaking it off her thoughts (after making a mental note to go outside before the day was out, maybe walk with Ron around the estate), she entered the dining room and saw Trotzer was reading.

"Oh, hello there, Miss Possible," he politely said, placing his book down after marking his page.

"Hi," she said, taking the same seat Ron took the prior night, "how are you doing?"

He sighed. "Reading one of my favorite books," he replied, holding up the book he just put down, and saw it was something written by someone named Elias Canetti (the title was so faded, she couldn't read it), "and taking in the morning. Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good," she replied, not sure what more she could say about it. "I bet you'll be happy once we're gone, 'cause then you can stop making so much food."

He shrugged. "There are some positives and negatives to you being here, I admit," Trotzer cordially began, "but believe me when I say that making a surplus of food is not something I consider a negative."

"Oh, yeah," Kim replied, recalling he enjoyed cooking, "but still, less work and all." She admitted to herself that it was a filler conversation, but it was better than shoveling food down.

"I haven't worked properly since the 1990's; I assure you, I don't mind," he replied, looking rather sincere.

"What was being a CEO like," she asked. Kim then realized she hit rock bottom: she was so bored, she was asking business questions.

Trotzer seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she was. "Really, Miss Possible, I don't think you really care to converse on so dull a subject. Is there something else on your mind?"

"Uh," she stalled, thinking to herself _Well yeah, but it's none of your damn business, _"no, not at all, just bored." Even as she said it, she heard how unconvincing her voice was.

He laid his head back on the cushion of the chair. "I don't quite believe you about having nothing on your mind, but I respect your privacy." After ten seconds of silence, he began asking a question. "You're friend, he's not-"

A loud-ish beeping rang out. The alarms weren't too loud as to distract Kim, but she did jump slightly and Johann Trotzer looked surprised. Kim knew the sound meant that the assassins were here. _It's show time_, she thought, her fighting mood already switched on.

"Trotzer," she urgently said, jumping out of the chair and quickly sweeping the room with her eyes, "do you have some safe place to hide?" _I should have asked him before this, but no use complaining about it now._

The old man nodded, and pushed himself off of his chair, and grabbed his cane. For as old as he was, Kim saw with approval, he did move rather quickly when the situation called for it. He made his way to a corner of the room, and Kim was about to suggest a place less in the open, but then Trotzer tapped the wall with his cane and a small area of the floor dropped into a stairwell. "When you're done, just knock on this spot on the floor," he ordered, pointing with his cane to a specific location near him. Hobbling down the stairs, and closing the trapdoor, Kim kept that information in mind while she sprinted into the main hallway.

Not seeing any assassins in the hallway, she glanced toward the staircase. Walking slowly to the stairs, attempting to be quiet, a giant blast focused behind her suddenly flung her body forward three feet. On her hands and knees, she turned her head to look behind her and saw that the front door was blown open and three men dressed in military uniforms, wearing red ski-masks, and holding what looked like M-16's stood menacingly in the open space. One of them saw her doubled over and spoke:

"Miss Possible," he began, in a husky, Eastern European accent, "where is Johann Trotzer? Tell us, and you won't be killed."

Realizing her grappling hook hairdryer was in her duffle bag (and her duffle bag was in her room), she mentally kicked herself while looking around for a way to fight back. Seeing an opportunity, she flipped backwards, and swerved right to left while running to a door which was ajar. Hearing footsteps behind her, and more frightening, gunshots, she began sprinting faster, and leaped into the room, ending in a roll. Slamming the door shut, she quickly looked around the area, which turned out to be a ballroom. There wasn't much in it, save a piano and some covered instruments, and the distraught Kim dived into a nearby closet to give herself time to think.

_Okay, okay, okay, what am I doing,_ she frantically inquired of herself. _How could I have been stupid enough to leave my grappling hook upstairs? _The answer was obvious, though, and she knew that, though it didn't make her feel any better. _Okay, so I wasn't expecting them to strike this early; I thought it was more likely an afternoon thing. At least I have my lipstick laser,_ she reassured herself, feeling her pocket and telling that she did indeed have it.

She then heard door the ballroom crashing open, indicating that the assassins, or some of them, at least, were inside. From Kim's perspective, her only saving grace was that Trotzer was in a pretty safe and undetectable location. Taking in a deep breath of oxygen, deciding she'd rather go out to them then let them trap her in the closet, Kim bounded out of the small space in a roll, narrowly avoiding a bullet which punctured a wall just mere inches from where her left arm was. Grunting out of frustration, she bolted out of the room and turned to the stairway. Her mission at that moment was to survive, and to do that, she needed her hairdryer.

Hearing shouts from behind her, but not deciphering the exact words, she quickened her pace up the stairs and hoped she could throw them off in the long hallway on the journey to the other end. _Maybe if I open a door they'll think I hid there and- No, that's stupid, that only works in movies._ Reaching the hallway, she risked a quick glance behind her and saw that two of the assassins were chasing her. Gritting her teeth, she kicked herself into overdrive and sprinted to the stairs leading to the third floor, reaching it in less than a minute and a half. She didn't lose the assassins, though, as she heard their footsteps along with the occasional gunshot firing. Aside from that, the alarm, which wasn't loud be any means, was still ringing, and Kim was now certain she had a headache.

Flinging open her door, she grabbed her duffle bag and the hairdryer out of it, and strapped it to her back already swinging her door shut again. _Do I go back down and face them head-on or try and hide upstairs? _Knowing she didn't have that much time to think about it, and realizing that she didn't come here to hide, Kim ran back the direction she came, meeting up with the two assassins midway on the stairs.

The onslaught, to Kim's satisfaction, lasted only 30 seconds, and she came out on top. Before they could fire any rounds at her, she grabbed her lipstick laser and used it on the right kneecap of one of the assassins. Kim knew the laser was powerful (_it can cut through metal, so skin shouldn't be a problem_, she thought to herself while doing so), and knew the damage it could inflict would be severe, and never thought about using it on an actual person, but logic won out. _They have M-16s; I think it's only fair I use my lipstick offensively. _Hearing his deep grunt and seeing him fall forward and then roll down the stairs while she was flipping in midair toward the other target, Kim was sure she grinned. Kicking the assassin on the top of his head with her heel on her right foot, and then kicking his nose with her opposite foot using as much force as she could muster, she gracefully landed on her two feet while the assassin, with his newly acquired broken nose, fell forward and screamed in pain.

_Okay, two down, how many more left? _Kim knew she saw three in the main hall, but it didn't escape her that she heard the alarm before the door blew open, meaning there was a potential fourth assassin somewhere in the mansion, a thought she didn't find too favorable. Quickly making sure the assassin she used the laser on was down (he was; clutching his knee and screaming in pain didn't make Kim feel he posed much of a threat), she kicked the dropped M-16 down the stairs and put her foot on the neck of the assassin in front of her. He gurgled a little, and was gasping a bit, but as Kim was so irate at the moment, she didn't find herself caring.

"How many more assassins are there," she asked, keeping her voice relatively calm, but letting a bit of an acidic tone drop as so he would take her question very seriously.

"מספיק כדי לבצע את המשימה," he replied, his voice thick and his pain obvious. Kim had no idea whether he could speak English or not, but she was far from a sympathetic position. He answered, and that was enough, in Kim's opinion, to prove he could understand her.

"Answer me so I can understand you, or I swear I will snap your neck," Kim spat, not sure if the bluff would work while realizing that if she didn't take control of herself, she just might do something stupid like that.

In a very thick accent, he managed to do so, his anger apparent, alongside his confidence in his statement. "There are five of us total, but you will not be able to defeat us. We have God on our side, and all you have is the Devil."

Though she could not help but to understand sentiment of the weakened assassin, she rammed her foot into his jaw, knocking him unconscious and leaving just three assassins for her to deal with. Running down the stairs, she suddenly heard the sound of gunshots being fired. Ducking to the floor, she whipped her head around and saw that the assassin with the knee injury had picked up the dropped M-16 and was firing at her. Luckily, he was still in a state of pain (as evident by the look on his face), and his aiming was a bit off. Still not one to want to mess around with even the potential of being shot, she jumped toward and ricocheted off the wall and torpedoed herself toward him, connecting with his face in a painful-sounding _crack_. Kim didn't even have to check to see if he was knocked out, because it was obvious to her that even if he wasn't, he would be out of commission for a while.

Reaching the stairway to the ground floor without further event, she pulled out her grappling hook and swung down, immediately becoming bombarded by flash grenades, blinding her terribly. Grunting, she landed roughly and felt along the wall nearest to her for a door in which she could shelter herself, but after knocking down a suit of armor, she realized that she couldn't hide and just had to try and fight without the sense of sight, which was not something which appealed to Kim much, though she did know it could be done.

Her confidence depleted slightly when she felt a fist ram into her stomach. Doubled over in pain, she tried a leg sweep, which led to the outcome of someone twisting her ankle in a painful configuration. Taking some deep breaths and attempting to avoid panic, she felt a slight movement to her left and instantly thrust her fist in that direction, making contact with one of the assassins' faces. Feeling slightly more in control, though she still couldn't see clearly without feeling disorientated, she drop-kicked to her right and again made contact with someone. Flipping backwards (which, while the teen cheerleader thought was an easy move during competitions and practice, was much more difficult without sight and required a lot more balance) thrice, she landed on her feet and placed herself in a defensive position again.

A deep voice, the same one she heard right after the front door blew open, spoke: "Kim Possible, we have guns; we could kill you right now where you stand. However, that is not our goal. Where is Johann Trotzer? Inform us, and we will let you live."

Blinking rapidly and finding herself able to see (albeit her sight was extremely dim), she discovered that he was right. Two assassins (one of which was rubbing his nose apprehensively, which, even in the graveness of the situation, made her grin a little) had their guns pointed straight at her, while the speaker stood feet in front of her with his arms folded behind his back.

"There is no possible way out, as I'm sure you can tell," he continued, in almost a soothing voice. "I hope you can appreciate that fact and adhere to reason."

Before Kim could even cognitively think of a way around his 'fact' of the situation, she heard herself say, "Anything's possible for a Possible," and then immediately jumped into action.

The reactions of the assassins came a bit late as Kim dived toward the supposed leader, grabbed his shoulders, and swung both of her knees into his chest. One of the subordinates fired a shot at her, but she maneuvered herself and the assassin out of the path of the bullet; the assassin on the opposite side, however, was not so lucky, as the bullet ripped through his left shoulder. Dropping his gun and clutching his shoulder, he retreated to the living room to recuperate. _Okay, just need to deal with these two, and then only one more wounded assassin. I might actually win_, Kim reflected while thrusting her knees into the assassin's chest again (this time, causing a crack to be heard as three of his ribs broke). He was trying to shake her off and grab for his gun, but Kim was having none of that, and kneed him in the jaw, causing a thunderous crack to ring out of his mouth.

Grimacing herself, she dropped off him and flung herself toward the advancing assassin. She swiftly kicked his gun out of his hand and punched him in the Adam's apple, which didn't have as much affect as she would have liked (he didn't drop to the floor), but he did backtrack a bit, leaving room for Kim to do something she'd never actual done before while fighting, which was kicking somebody in the crotch, with tremendous force. When she did, that made him fall instantly, for which Kim was grateful.

Wiping off some sweat which pooled on her forehead, she looked over her shoulder to make sure the leader was down and out. He was on his knees, both hands on his jaw line, moaning. Apparently taking no notice of her, he balanced himself and stood, looking at the defeated acquaintance rolling around the floor in pain, and placed his head in his palm. He mumbled something to himself lightly, perhaps in Hebrew (though, Kim admitted to herself, she couldn't tell Hebrew apart from Luxembourgian any more than she could recite the Greek alphabet backwards), raised his head, and faced Kim.

"Unless one of my comrades remains unharmed and able to combat you, I think we are done." In a cordial manner, though still rubbing his jaw, he bowed his head toward her. "You were a most worthy opponent, and stopped us for now. Let it be known, however," he continued, more sternly, "that we will attempt to kill Johann Trotzer again. We know where he lives, and even if he tried to go into hiding, we will find him. His crimes against the Jewish people must be punished, and his death must not come by natural means."

"That's not for you to decide," Kim replied angrily. "If it matters so much to the Jewish people, then have him arrested or something. You don't need to kill him."

"You don't know a thing about what his kind did to us," he spat back, sounding quite bitter. "He deserves no better than a death at our hands, which he will receive. You can't protect him for the rest of his life, and when you leave, we will strike and he will fall."

"Yeah, actually I do know what Nazis did to Jews; everyone does, and nobody liked it, so don't give me that crap," she replied, her blood boiling at this point, not believing she was getting in an argument with an assassin over morality.

"The people didn't like it? I must have forgotten that my people spent only mere weeks in the camps and were freed by an uprising of the good citizens," he replied coldly, his eyes not wavering from hers'.

"So, it was a bad time in history. We get that. Even Trotzer understands that-" Kim was abruptly cut off.

"Do not speak for that Nazi! He will do his own speaking, and sooner than he thinks." Footsteps from the direction of the stairs made him cease talking. They both looked over and saw three figures slowly walking down, one limping (Kim assumed it was the one she lasered in the knee), one bleeding from the nose, and one terrified. The terrified one, to Kim's utter dismay, was Ron.

"Kim, the assassins are here!" he shouted wildly as soon as he saw her.

"Ya think," she shouted in frustration, turning her attention over to the person in charge.

"Ah," he said, analyzing the new situation, "it seems we now have leverage over you. Now, I will ask one last time: Where is Trotzer? If you fail to answer me or lie, we will kill this boy." His tone insisted that he wasn't lying.

"But-but," Kim stammered, horrified by the ultimatum he was giving her, "you can't." She looked over at Ron and saw that he didn't look much better off then she felt; his eyes were focused on the floor and was muttering something. _Seriously, _Kim thought to herself, _he's praying now? Well, I guess that it seems appropriate now above all other times, but_- She was shook out of her thoughts with a reply by the assassin in charge.

"And why, pray tell, couldn't I?" He grinned slightly, and continued more seriously. "We usually try to refrain from killing people other than our objectives, but Nazi sympathizers are little better than Nazis themselves."

"I'm not a Nazi!" Ron shouted, lifting his head up, looking appalled and insulted at the prospect, "I'm Jewish."

Looking slightly alarmed at his claim (insofar as much that the assassins holding Ron actually let him go, before deciding they should still restrain him, though they used much less force while doing so), the assassin leader asked, more intrigued than anything, "Really? Then why are you even in the presence of Johann Trotzer?"

"I'm Kim's friend," he replied, struggling against those holding him in place, "and I'm here to do what's right, and that's stopping a murder."

"How can you say that? That man murdered many people, yet you have no problem helping protect him?" The leader looked outraged. "If there's one thing I hate as much as Nazis and Nazi sympathizers, its traitors. Kill him," he ordered, his voice losing all of its potential charm.

"NO!" Kim shouted, and was going to run toward Ron, but the leader shot near her feet, causing her to stop. Feeling completely powerless, she looked up at Ron and saw he was again looking down at the ground and mouthing prayers. The assassin on his left raised his gun toward his head, and then all hell broke loose.

The next thing Kim heard was a scream of the assassin about to shoot Ron, and she saw him drop his gun and wave his arm wildly, with Rufus hanging off his hand, biting deeply into one of his fingers. Ron wrestled out of his grip and elbowed the other assassin hard in the stomach and dropped to the ground, covering his head. Seeing this as the only opportunity to gain control, Kim lunged toward the leader, tackling him to the floor and repeatedly punching his face. Kicking his body aside once he passed out, she went to assist Rufus by sweeping the assassin's legs, causing a hard drop to befall him.

Letting out a long sigh, thinking she was finally done, Kim heard gun shots, and felt something graze her right leg, causing a sharp pain. Releasing a shrill yell, she turned around and saw the assassin who was shot in the shoulder walking toward her, gripping his wounded arm. Examining her leg (her pants were ripped, but the bullet just barely hit her; there was a little blood and a small scrape, but as it wasn't embedded in her, she wasn't worried) quickly, she was about to attack him when all of the sudden Ron jumped out of his fetal position and flung himself at the assassin.

"Leave Kim alone!" he shouted, fiercely combating him by means of scratching and punching. Already possessing a wounded shoulder, and despite Ron's amateur fighting methods, the assassin quickly lost control of the struggle, and when Ron kicked him in the right kneecap, he dropped onto the floor, his head crashing on the stone. Turning to Kim immediately thereafter, he said, "Kim, are you okay? Do you need the hospital? Is it bad?"

"No, it just hurts a bit, but it's okay" Kim replied, giving Ron a small, feeble smile and feeling uplifted due to the fact that he cared so much. His words alone told her that, but his face contained so much concern in itself, it was obvious she mattered a lot to him.

Rufus began climbing up Ron's pants while he retorted, "Well, you should probably get it checked out anyway. You don't want any kind of infection or anything." Moving his eyes off of her wounded leg and onto his pet, he said, "Thanks, Rufus, you're awesome. If you weren't there, I'd probably be dead now."

The sincerity in his voice was obvious to both Rufus and Kim, and Kim knew that his statement was correct, as much as it ailed her. _I couldn't do anything; I was useless. Rufus saved the day_. Though not exactly optimistic thoughts, Kim was quite happy that everyone came out okay.

"Yeah, Rufus," she replied, attempting to keep her inner emotions in check, "you're the best naked mole rat I-" Suddenly her vision was obscured by a large buildup of smoke and all around her she heard the sounds of footsteps retreating.

"Miss Possible, Trotzer will not make it through the night. Goodbye," the lead assassin declared, and seconds later, he was gone. Even with Ron, Kim, and Rufus fanning the smoke out of the hole that used to be the main entrance, it took a good four minutes for all traces to dissipate. Once it did, she saw that the five assassins, despite their various injuries, managed to vacant the area. Kim knew that they were too far away now to warrant a chase, and grudgingly let it go for the moment.

Sighing and rubbing his head, Ron asked, "Kim, where's Trotzer? He's okay, right?" Rufus, who was relaxing in Ron's pocket, took interest in the question and perked up.

"Yeah, he's fine," Kim replied, and began slowly walking toward the living room while stuffing her grappling hook into the duffle bag and tossing it aside. Truth be told, as active as she was, and as athletic as she tended to be, she was truly beat at the moment and would have loved nothing more than a hot bath lasting hours. Reaching the corner where Trotzer pulled his disappearing act, Kim dropped to her knees (Ron rushed up next to her, thinking she fell due to exhaustion, but was waved away) and rapped her knuckles on the spot of the floor that Trotzer earlier indicated, creating a hole to form with a stairwell. Seconds later, Johann Trotzer slowly emerged, wearing a kindly smile when seeing both Ron and Kim.

"Miss Possible, you did it," he said approvingly, not attempting to hide his joy at the outcome of the situation.

"No," Kim correct him, "Ron and I did it. Rufus too. We all worked together and got out of it. You're safe at the moment," She patted him on his left shoulder, careful not to do it too hard, but wanting to show that, despite their disputes throughout the week, she was appreciative that he felt as thankful as he appeared.

"Of course, all three of you," Trotzer replied, grinning. "I didn't even know you brought an animal with you, but if he helped me to survive, I have no qualms." He reached his hand out and lightly stroked Rufus' head, which Rufus didn't mind. After a few seconds, he took notice of the still-blaring siren, and stated, "Let me turn off that blasted alarm."

"Yeah, please do," Ron grumbled. "That's what woke me up in the first place."

"Uh, some damage did occur, Mr. Trotzer," Kim said, not wanting to break their victorious moment nor ignore Ron's side of the story, but needing him to realize the extent of what occurred over the prior 20 minutes. "Your door is almost totally gone and the bullets left holes all over the place."

He dismissively waved his hand at this information. "None of that matters now. What matters is that we're all safe and-" He stopped talking suddenly as his eyes examined the two figures in front of him. "Miss Possible, you're wounded," he said, his voice flat, nodding to her scraped leg.

"No, it's fine, it's just a scratch, really," Kim replied, and though it still stung slightly, she wasn't too concerned about it.

"Even so, come down and let me check it out," he replied, motioning to the stairway he just walked up.

"Down," Ron asked cluelessly, tilting his head in an angle as so he could glance down the stairs. "What is that room, Mr. Trotzer?"

"This castle wasn't built for or by me," he replied, wiping some collected dust off of his sweater, "it was built long ago. I don't know for sure, but I think those hidden chambers were used to hide away some stolen collectibles or to host lewd parties. I just know I found it a long time ago, and have since converted it to an infirmary in case of any emergency. If it is just a scratch," he continued, looking down the stairs now and not at Kim, "then I have the expertise necessary to properly mend and sterilize it."

Kim chuckled nervously, knowing that sterilizing a wound often caused more pain than the wound itself.

"Uh, it's really not necessary, Mr. Trotzer, but thanks," she replied evasively, about to attempt to get Ron to side with her with a usage of her puppy dog pout, but before she could, Ron shouted in a shrill voice.

"Kim, look out! Behind you!"

Trusting his judgment and not needing to confirm for herself, she crouched and then jumped up, flipping over whatever it was that was behind her. Seeing it as another assassin, she landed behind him in confusion.

He pivoted and faced her. From what Kim could tell, he had no injuries whatsoever, external or otherwise (his movement wasn't sluggish or delayed), and as such, she didn't know what was going on.

"I thought you guys left," she stated, her bewilderment obvious. The assassin didn't reply and just lunged at her. Kim quickly moved to the side and then faced him when he landed. They both attacked each other at the same time.

The skirmish lasted anywhere between 40 seconds and 15 minutes; after the first few punches and kicks, everything became a repetitive blur. While tiring, it did come with its positives, as Kim was sure it gave Ron enough time to get Trotzer back underground. Unfortunately, he must not have been thinking along the same lines, because every time she spared a second to look over to the corner, both Trotzer and Ron were in view, albeit Ron was sort of blocking Trotzer from the sight of the assassin. The assassin had already seen him, though, and Kim thought she had it figured out where he came from while she battled her silent (he said nary a word nor grunted) assassin.

_Ninjas, for the most part, are honorable, but assassins aren't. I guess when I interrogated that one assassin about how many were in the mansion, he lied, probably to ensure that Trotzer would actually be killed if the first wave of assassins failed in their objective. Hell, it was probably planned out from the beginning as a backup plan or a sleeper agent. This guy's orders must have been to stay behind and wait until he got Trotzer in his sights, then strike. _Dodging a swift punch, Kim glanced over again at her host. _Trotzer's still alive, so I can still win this. _In short, the assassin's mission wasn't complete, and Kim had no intentions of ceasing the struggle, so she kept at it.

Leaping to his left just microseconds before Kim's feet could make contact, she emitted a low growl, as that was the third time in a row he evaded her attack. Ron and Rufus weren't attempting to assist her, and it was clear why: this assassin was much better trained than the other five she fought earlier, and she didn't blame them for not wanting to interfere. Even Kim wasn't quite sure if someone would actually win, or it would end by one of them being too worn down to continue.

Turning to face him once again, she was caught unprepared by his foot making contact to her injured leg, causing her to crumble to the ground. She was forcing herself up as he ran to the entrance of the room, and turned around, pulling the M-16 strapped to his back off and aiming it at Trotzer.

Seeing this, already to her feet, she shouted, "Ron, get Trotzer somewhere safe!"

Not checking to see if he was obeying her (she assumed he was; very few times did he ever intentionally not listen to her orders), she began sprinting toward the assassin, moving surprisingly quickly despite her now even more injured leg. He straightened his arms and fired off one round before Kim's left foot made contact with the firearm, kicking it out of his hands. He pushed her off and began running out of the room and to the large opening leading to the outside of the castle.

Kim heard a yell "No!" behind her, and knew that Trotzer was down. Not wanting this assassin to get away, she shouted behind her while running through the door, "Ron, get Trotzer down to that hospital-thingy and put pressure on the wound! I'll be back in five minutes. Keep him conscious."

Ron was squeamish, but in a rushed situation like this one, Kim knew he would stay focused and help Trotzer; it was just part of his good nature. In short, she wasn't worried about Trotzer as much as she was about letting this last assassin go. It was the only way she might be able to track down the whole group of assassins, and though taking down an organization of Nazi-hunters wasn't part of her mission, she had an opportunity to do it, and she wasn't going to let that opportunity go without a fight.

He was already halfway to the little patch of forest by the time Kim's foot touched the dirt ground outside of the castle. Not bothering to waste her breath by yelling at him to stop, she picked up her pace, which was difficult, as she was already sore and weakened. Still, life wasn't always easy, she realized, and she was not going to let him slip through her fingers. _Optimistic thinking works, _she thought to herself, _I'm already making up ground. _And she was; she was now just ten feet behind the assassin. The drawback, however, is that they were now entering the forest, and as Kim didn't know the layout, she knew it would be easy to lose track of her prey if she didn't keep a focused mind.

Throughout the many twists and turns, Kim managed to keep up with him, only losing sight of him once. She didn't know how long she'd been chasing him, but the more she thought about it, the more she didn't think it mattered. _The gun was aimed low, and at worst, it would have just hit Trotzer's leg. He won't die from a wound like that. Still_, she pressured herself to see reason, _I have to just catch him and get this over with. I don't know how much more I can take._

A good opening occurred minutes after that thought: the assassin tripped on an old branch he didn't see, causing him to go sprawling feet ahead of him and land on his chest with a deep thud. She caught up with him and jumped onto his back, nailing him down.

"You're not getting away, so don't bother," she said smugly, sounding out of breath. Even though he was trying to shake her off, Kim held her ground, and pressured one of her knees into his back. Still not making a sound, the assassin did react in a way that implied he agreed to remain submissive. "'Kay, this is what we're going to do. I'm going to pull you up, tie your arms behind you back, and take you to the castle where we can keep you locked up until we can get some authorities here. Who knows, maybe Global Justice will be interested in taking down you guys."

That last part was meant more for Kim than it was the assassin, as she didn't really expect him to know who Global Justice was. Regardless, the point got across as he struggled a bit more before suddenly becoming limp. _God no, not a poison capsule or something_, she thought frantically as she lessened the pressure he was under by getting off his back. Kim knew that some assassins/spies did have contingency actions in case that they got caught, though she admitted that she didn't know if it was just a movie thing or not. Regardless, she wasn't taking any chances, especially for a capture as important as this.

The next thing she knew, she was flat in the ground, feeling a sharp blade being held to her throat. Realizing he was faking as to gain the upper-hand (_which worked_, she bitterly told herself, though it was hardly necessary), Kim was slightly worried that he would actually kill her. The hunter's knife she felt was a good indication of such, and she did cause them enough trouble throughout the course of their mission. _Do not beg if it comes down to it_, Kim thought to herself, her mind flashing through her life, and more particularly, her times with Ron. The assassin tightened his grip on the knife and was about to slit her throat when one thought caused Kim to jump into action, as risky as it was. _If I die now, Ron will never know how I feel._

She jerked her left knee upwards, making contact with his stomach, making him drop the knife (Kim's neck was mostly uninjured, though she was sure there was at least a small scratch or indication that a knife was held to it, just based on the amount of pressure exerted on it) and rolled over. Before she could get in a position to again ensure he was trapped, he pushed himself up and kicked Kim's head with a lot of force. She didn't blackout, but she was heavily stunned. In fact, Kim felt paralyzed; she couldn't get her legs or arms to assist her in pushing herself off the ground. She remained stationary while she saw the assassin escape through her blurry vision.

After three minutes, she managed to shake her head back and forth, gathering her clear vision again, and audibly groaned in frustration and pain. _Damn it, he's gone_. There was no silver lining or a thought following that one; he was gone, and Kim knew there was no way she could find him now. Slowly steadying herself, she grabbed hold of a tree when she was fully erect as so she wouldn't stumble to the ground, which, with every passing second, she thought would become more and more likely. After another two minutes of just breathing slowly, Kim risked it and let go of the tree.

Her balance was suspect at best, and every now and again she did fall to the ground, but she found that with each passing second, she became more and more stable, and by the time she exited the forest (luckily at approximately the same location she entered), she felt fine (aside from a terrible headache, a horribly sore knee, and overall feeling dead). Walking slowly to the giant hole which now represented Trotzer's door, she made her way back to the living room, hoping that Trotzer was as unhurt as she thought he might be.

The scene before her eyes, when she entered the living room, wasn't what she was expected. Both Ron and Trotzer were still where they were when she left in pursuit of the assassin, and Trotzer was standing up, his eyes wide and his feeble frame breathing heavily, apparently out of breath. Ron was lying on the ground, with Rufus fanning his sweaty face. Whether he was conscious or not, Kim didn't know, but one thing was clear: there was a dark red spot in the middle of his blue shirt, where his chest was. Trotzer was perfectly fine; Ron had been shot.


End file.
